


Soiree

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-15
Updated: 2006-03-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 02:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12717825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Somebody's having a birthday party :^)





	Soiree

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

Sam turned off the ignition and set the brake on her vintage Volvo. For a long moment, she stared at her C.O.'s house, noting the several cars already parked in the drive and along nearby curbs.

She took a deep breath. This was bound to be the most unusual birthday party *she'd* ever had. Either a huge hit or a disaster. Oh, well. If it was a flop, she could always blame the colonel. It had all been his idea.

She had to admit, however, that she'd been fascinated ever since he'd returned from that Christmas trip to the coast bubbling over with stories of Daniel and his friends. And she'd been astounded when she'd actually heard Daniel play his guitar. So when, with her birthday approaching, O'Neill had hinted that it might be fun to spring a musical surprise on the rest of their friends, she'd been intrigued enough to go along with it.

How it had come to this, she had no idea. A musical party. Bring your own... instrument. And here she was, without a musical ability to her name. One song, carefully coached into her untalented bones by the world's most patient--and persistent--teacher. God, maybe they'd let the Birthday Girl get away with a pass.

Shaking her head, she got out of the car and approached the door. It was flung open when she was still ten feet away, revealing the grinning visage of her immediate superior.

"Carter! Happy birthday! C'mon in."

As he reached out to tug her through the door, a taxi pulled up at the end of the drive. The back door popped open to release a tall, curly haired man.

"Ian! Welcome! Why didn't you call for a ride!"

The man laughed brightly. "Nah. Figured you'd have your hands full."

"Here, Ian... meet the Birthday Girl, Sam Carter."

Sam couldn't have choked back the smile if she'd been ordered. The man caressing her hand was completely lovely. He was an inch or so shorter than the colonel, body thin and vigorous. Riotous curly red hair was confined at the back of his neck, tumbling down between his shoulders. His eyes were brilliantly green, and examined her with wicked appreciation.

"'Allo, love." Oh, God. The accent was deadly. "Happy Birthday."

Maintaining eye contact, he grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a small kiss on the knuckle of her index finger.

Woo hoo! Who cared about the music part. She'd have happily consigned herself to a few hours of humiliation just for the fun she knew this man was going to provide.

"Thank you, kind sir," she teased back.

He laughed and winked at her, then turned to intercept the taxi driver, who had his head in the trunk.

"Hold on, mate. Let me take those..."

Jack moved toward the trunk to help with luggage, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the still open door.

"Go on, Carter. Get settled in; do the rounds. Ian's staying in the guest room. I'll get him taken care of, then we'll join the fun. Still got quite a few folks coming, so we won't be getting any of the good stuff started for a bit."

She exchanged a happy grin with him, cast one final lustful look over her shoulder at the rear end now protruding from the taxi's trunk, then headed toward the still open door.

Sam found herself stepping into a hum of chatter and disorganized scraps of music. She paused for a moment to greet Siler, noting the big, apparently well-used guitar cradled in his lap. All those hours stolen to work on her bike, and she'd never suspected a musical interest. And Sergeant Streager, tuning his own strings. She choked back a chuckle at the sight of the big Marine fiddling with a delicate looking little instrument--mandolin? Who'd have thought!

Maybe this was a great idea after all. All these people worked side by side, in dangerous and sometimes terrifying circumstances. It might just be a wonderful thing to give them a chance to introduce this unsuspected side of themselves to each other.

"Sam! Happy Birthday!" She turned just in time to be engulfed in the joint embraces of Janet and Cassie Fraiser.

"Hi, guys! Glad you made it. Oh, aren't we lovely!" She laughed fondly at Cassandra, dressed in a tight sweater and very short skirt, hair and makeup obviously prepared with a great deal of care. "When did you get so big, sweetheart?"

The incipient pout at implied criticism softened into an affectionate moue of reprimand. "Not big, Sam! Just... adult."

Sam lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? We'll see. How about a bit of one-on-one next weekend? Bet I can still spot you five and win."

Cassie obviously wrestled with her grown-up self, then grinned with the insouciance of youth. "You're on. You're also dead meat!"

Janet laughed. "Oh, so grown up." She kissed her adopted daughter and directed her toward the kitchen. "Go find something to munch on, honey. Who knows *where* tonight's entertainment is going to take us!"

The two women intertwined arms and moved slowly toward the glass door to the deck.

"God, Janet. She's leaving us behind."

"I know. Guess this is what you get when you get them already half grown... before you've figured out parenthood, they're all grown up."

"And you're so sorry you took her on..."

"Not!"

They laughed at their simultaneous exclamations as they stepped out onto the deck. They were met by the sounds of a fiddle playing bits and pieces of a variety of tunes. A young woman Sam vaguely remembered seeing in uniform in the halls of the SGC was apparently warming up her instrument.

"That sounds really great... Tailor, is it? Airman Tailor?"

The fiddler lowered her bow and reached to shake hands. "Yes, ma'am. Joan Tailor."

"I had no idea we had a fiddler in our midst! You know that one of Dr. Jackson's friends is also a fiddler, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am." Tailor's lips quirked in an uncertain smile.

Sam smiled at her. "I think we could be a bit more informal, don't you? Seeing as how this is my birthday party."

"Yes, ma'am. I mean..."

Sam laughed. "How about 'Sam,' just for tonight."

"Yes, ma... Sam." She smiled tentatively. "I'd heard about the fiddler. I hope we can play together a bit." She flushed slightly. "That's the most fun thing about fiddling... playing together. Improvising."

Sam grinned at her. "Well, from what I hear, Daniel's friend will be delighted with that idea. At least two of you are going to have a good time today."

Tailor laughed, relaxing a bit. "I hope so. How did Dr. Jackson come to know a fiddler?"

"Met him in college, so I hear." Sam and Janet pulled the young woman toward the house. "Come on, let's get something to drink and find ourselves a corner somewhere before Daniel gets here, shall we? Maybe later you can get them to tell you the story."

Laughing, the three moved back into the house, one of them still distinctly nervous in her exalted company. They stepped into the open living area of the house just as Jack and his guest emerged from the back regions. Airman Tailor stopped abruptly, staring at the two men. Her mouth slowly dropped open, eyes widening in awe.

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "Oh, God."

"Joan? Airman Tailor?" Sam shook her slightly.

"Th... that's... that's Ian C...Conrad." Her voice was shaking. Sam and Janet grabbed her arms and eased her down onto a convenient footstool. "Ian Conrad..." The worship in her voice was palpable.

"That's Daniel's friend from England," Sam said gently.

"Ian Conrad..." Glazed hazel eyes attested to her lack of attention.

Sam and Janet exchanged amused smiles, then Sam gestured to the colonel, indicating that he should bring his companion over to the three women.

Tailor's eyes remained glued on Ian's face, seeming to grow larger with every step he took in her direction.

The young man quirked an eyebrow at Sam. "And who might your lovely friends be, Birthday Sam?"

Janet slipped her fingers into his offered hand, returning his roguish smile. "Janet Fraiser. And you're Daniel's Ian."

"The same. And... ?" He tilted his curly head toward the seated woman. The overwhelmed airman's head was tilted back at an acute angle, gaze locked on his face.

Sam bit her lip, trying desperately to contain her amusement. "This is Joan Tailor. She's a fiddler. She's looking forward to playing with you."

His face creased with delight. "Lovely! Daniel never told me he had another fiddler for me!"

Sam shrugged ruefully. "Well, I don't think any of us is sure just *what* we're going to hear. We just sort of said, 'bring anything you've got that makes music,' and crossed our fingers."

"Forging into the unknown..." Jack added, winking at his major.

Ian's bubble of laughter set them all off. "Oh lord, an adventure!" As their laughter calmed, he crouched down in front of the still-silent airman, voice gentling. "Hey, love. You gonna play with me?"

She started, then whipped the instrument she clutched in her hands behind her back, shaking her head in panic. "Oh, no. I... I... I couldn't. You're *Ian Conrad*! I can't play with Ian Conrad!"

He grinned at her. "Sure you can. Just another fiddler. How do you think anyone gets to be good if they don't play with other folks? C'mon..." He urged her to her feet. "We can go warm up. Then we'll be ready to raise the roof when things get started, right? And speaking of which..." He slipped his arm around the now-standing woman's waist and turned to the colonel. "Jack, you're gonna want to get Daniel set up and playing soon as he gets here. Let him get one good look at this lot..." he waved his free hand at the growing crowd of guests, "... and he'll never take that guitar out of the case. Ambush him."

Jack laughed, handing the other man the violin case he'd been carrying. "You got it. Go off and woo your new friend here, but keep your ears open. The three of you are our ringers--you get to start the noisy part of this festivity off."

Grinning and waving the case, Ian shepherded his dazed acolyte toward the back of the house.

"Wow!" Janet shook her head. "I guess I never adequately understood the meaning of the word 'groupie' before. That is one dazzled young woman! Cassie wasn't that bad when she was obsessed with N'Sync!"

Jack grinned at the receding backs of the fiddlers. "Well, I've sort of been following Ian for the last few months. He's kind of like the Brad Pitt of the fiddling crowd. And yes," he smirked, "there is indeed a fiddling crowd. And he's one of their gods."

Sam shook her head as they moved back into the middle of the living room. "I didn't realize he was *that* good. I mean, Sir, not that your opinion isn't reliable..."

"Yes, Carter?" His brows quirked upward, eyes suspicious.

"Well, Sir, you have to admit that you *couldn't* exactly be considered an expert on this kind of music, and you... well..."

"Are you implying that I might have been a bit too easily impressed, Major Carter?"

"Ah... not exactly... just... well..." She scowled at him. "Well, yes, exactly!"

His fierce frown shifted to a grin. "You're right. But I've learned since. And, Carter, he *is* that good. Which means that *Daniel's* that good as well. You've heard him play, but you haven't heard him with Ian. And Janet, I don't think you've heard him at all. I hope you're both prepared to be knocked right on those shapely little butts, because I don't think you've *ever* heard anything like what you're gonna hear today." He rubbed his hands together grinning in sharkish glee, looking around the room at the guests assembled. "None of you..."

Janet and Sam exchanged an indulgent look. Oh, the colonel was enjoying having his big secret to spring on the personnel of the SGC.

Janet prodded him in the ribs. "Well, you just might be surprised once or twice yourself, you smug bastard. Daniel's not the *only* closet musician here today."

With an arch parting look at his suddenly speculative face, she pulled Sam toward an unoccupied half of the couch.

Sam was still giggling at his expression as she sank into the welcoming softness of the cushions. "You, Janet? Where's your... bassoon... balalaika... tuba... ?"

Her friend laughed. "Nowhere. He just needed taking down a degree or two. Tell me--is Daniel really that surprising?"

Sam leaned back, tilting her head to gaze at the ceiling. She recalled the first time she'd heard Daniel play--incredibly sweet, delicate music... intricate and very personal. "Oh, yes." She sighed reminiscently. "But I have to admit that, considering what I've heard, I can't imagine him playing the kind of music a fiddler plays. So maybe the colonel is right, and I'm going to be stunned right along with the rest of you. Of course, nothing will compare to the... amazement... you're going to experience when *I* do my party piece. You've heard me sing."

Janet's brows rose. "You're going to *sing*? Are you sure that's wise?"

Sam mock-frowned and elbowed the other woman. "Yes, if I can't get out of it. Actually, Daniel's been drilling me. Spent hours and hours trying to make me sound like something other than a drain that's finally gotten unclogged. It wouldn't be fair to him not to go ahead and humiliate myself."

"Oh, I can't wait. I've *heard* you sing. 'Row, row, row your boat...'"

"Janet!" Sam slapped a hand over Janet's mouth. "Ixnay! Tell me you didn't keep those tapes!"

A startled exclamation directed their attention toward the front door just in time to see Teal'c maneuvering through the suddenly too small opening, carrying a large, round object enclosed in a soft protective covering.

"Hey, Teal'c old buddy. Ah... wanna find some place for your friend there to sit?"

"This is not a friend, O'Neill. It is a /karushna/."

The colonel's brows tweaked. "Oooo-kay. And what's a /karushna/ when it's at home?"

Teal'c's raised brows and tilted head did not compliment the other man. "It is a musical instrument. Were we not to bring such to this gathering?"

O'Neill's eyes widened as he examined the mysterious object. "A... *big* musical instrument."

Teal'c nodded serenely, attention now focused on the cloth covering of his /karushna/. "Indeed."

"Ah... just what *kind* of music does it make?"

The soft cloth fell away, revealing a large, round drum head. Large as in at least three feet in diameter. The body of the /karushna/ was about ten inches deep, crossed on the back by a thick support with a centrally placed slot obviously designed to accommodate fingers.

Teal'c carefully wiped the surface of the drum with a soft rag. "It is a drum, O'Neill. I am sure you have seen such before."

O'Neill scowled at the big Jaffa. "Of course I've seen drums before. Just never saw one quite that *big*."

Teal'c smiled and tapped his fingers gently on the taut skin of the /karushna/'s head. The soft sound was deep and throbbing, tickling the body right down to the center of every bone.

"Wow." Janet stood and moved closer to the Jaffa. "May I look, Teal'c?"

He nodded graciously, holding the drum out so she could inspect its construction.

"It's lovely! Like a bodhran, only... huge." She looked up at his proud face. "Where on Earth did you get a skin big enough!"

He glanced around to assure that only SGC personnel were close enough to hear. "Not on Earth, Dr. Fraiser," he said softly. "Major Griff was kind enough to oblige when SG-2 accidentally killed that large herbivore on P2R 777."

O'Neill gaped at the Jaffa. "You... you mean you tanned that thing... Just where did this take place? I don't remember the stink..."

"We utilized an empty storage chamber on the twenty-third level. The hide for a /karushna/ must be very carefully prepared."

"So you made it yourself! Incredible." Janet gently brushed her fingers over the satin-smooth wood of the frame, then ran one along the inner brace. "An amazing piece of work."

"I was most grateful for the assistance of Sergeant Siler," he intoned. Siler raised his thumb in appreciation of the nod of gratitude directed his way.

Shaking his head in bemusement, O'Neill waved vaguely toward the seated technician.

"Find a place to sit, Teal'c. So far, you're the entire percussion section, so be prepared to make a lot of noise."

"That should not be a problem, O'Neill."

As the big man moved majestically into the room, a commotion arose outside, in the front of the house.

"Yes!" O'Neill's face was split by a grin. "Daniel! On your feet, Sam. Time for more meet 'n' greet."

As Sam hauled herself to her feet, the colonel grabbed one of the tall bar stools and plopped it in the middle of the living room. He raised his finger in a classic forbidding attitude, rotating around to make sure all of the guests in the room understood. Hands off; stool taken.

Sam shook her head as she passed the off-limits stool. "Maybe you should explain, Sir?"

"Nope. They'll figure it out. Come meet the rest of Daniel's folks."

Daniel's folks. Even now that sounded strange. She'd always thought Daniel didn't *have* any folks. Now he had them coming out of the cracks in the walls.

She trailed through the door behind the colonel. There were actually two new vehicles at the curb. General Hammond was being introduced to the two people who had arrived with Daniel, shaking the tall man's hand firmly, smiling sweetly down at the rather plump little woman.

Daniel turned from the greetings at the curb and hugged Sam enthusiastically.

"Happy birthday! You look terrific!"

She pulled back and smugly stroked her royal-blue suede jacket, Janet's early gift. "Thank you, kind sir. Introduce me?"

He pulled her toward the small group at the curb, touching the tall, balding man's shoulder. "Jason? Beth?"

They turned to him, affection sparkling in both pairs of eyes.

"This is Sam. Sam, Beth..." He leaned down to kiss her cheek. "... and Jason."

The small woman took Sam's hands and grinned up at her. "Oh, my. Daniel didn't tell me how lovely you were. Happy birthday, my dear. " She giggled mischievously up at Sam. "And thank you for having a birthday party so we could come check out Daniel's digs" She winked as she reached for Daniel's arm.

Jason was also smiling at Sam. "I really am going to have to have a talk with Daniel. He didn't warn me. Should have packed my big guns..."

To her mortification, Sam felt her cheeks reddening. "Ah, well..." Damn.

"Hey!" The colonel's shaking finger intruded between them. "None of that sort of thing. You want to make with the hanky panky, wait until tomorrow. Don't spoil my party by making me have to chase after the two of you!"

"Your party!" Daniel shook his head, stooping to remove a small instrument case and a round, cloth enclosed object from the trunk of the car. "I thought this was *Sam's* party."

"Don't you believe it, Daniel." Sam shook her head sorrowfully. "He just took advantage of me having a birthday to throw *his* party. I'm just a necessary evil."

Jason smiled and slipped his arm through hers, stooping to pick up the guitar case by his feet. "Oh, I can't imagine that's true. Let's go inside and discuss it, shall we?"

Sam glanced apologetically over her shoulder as he escorted her toward the house, trying to control her grin by clamping her teeth on her lower lip. "Sorry, folks. See you later..."

Vaguely, she was aware of the laughter behind her.

* * *

Sam looked up from introducing Jason to Janet and Cassie, just in time to see Daniel walk through the door and halt abruptly, wide eyes sweeping over the considerable crowd. He took a step backward, right into Jack. The colonel grasped his arm and plucked the round, suspiciously familiar looking object from suddenly slack hands.

O'Neill turned his head in her direction, catching her eyes and mouthing, "Find Ian."

Ian wasn't hard to locate. The happy sounds of fiddles frolicking together had been seeping in from the deck. She slipped out the glass door and waved, eyebrows high.

"Daniel's here?"

"Yep. And you've been summoned."

His eyes twinkled. "Nobody summons me, love. But I will deign to join the festivities."

He turned to the flushed young woman next to him. "Shall we, lass?" He offered his arm.

Expression still glowing with hero-worship, Tailor accepted, and the pair moved toward Sam. They stepped back into the house to find Daniel sitting on the colonel's stool, face pale, eyes downcast as he tuned his beautiful guitar. Jason stood in front of him, also tuning, and incidentally screening Daniel from a clear view of most of the crowd.

Ian hissed and shook his head. "Too slow, Jack. Too slow."

He looked around quickly, finding a seat for Joan, kissing her hand as he left her. Then he joined Jason, standing close to Daniel, creating a private space for the three of them as they prepared their instruments.

"What was that all about?" Sam turned to find Janet beckoning her toward the couch.

She tucked herself into the indicated space between Janet and Cassie, smiling and nodding at the General sitting at the other end of the couch.

"Daniel doesn't perform. I guess it's one of those reflexive nervous things. Ian said they need to get him playing before he starts to think too much about all the people."

Cassie giggled. "You mean he's shy."

Sam joined her laughter. "Essentially... yes."

"Well, like *that's* news!"

Their attention was diverted by a commotion across the room. Beth's delighted voice chimed over Teal'c's deep tones, chattering excitedly. She was stroking and examining his /karushna/. His pleasure at her admiration was obvious.

They made a wonderful pair. The top of her head barely reached his chest; he bent almost double to place his eyes level with hers. She was soft and a bit plump, he rather overwhelmingly muscular and hard. But they were obviously achieving a significant meeting of minds.

Beth lifted her finger, then looked a bit vaguely around the room. Exclaiming in triumph, she hopped over and caught up the round, cloth enclosed object the colonel had left leaning against the wall beside the front door. She tenderly removed the cloth bag as she moved back to Teal'c's side, revealing the tiny sister of Teal'c's massive drum.

Janet's laughter quivered against Sam's side. "A bodhran! See, I told you."

Indeed, the small, hand-held drum was very similar to Teal'c's instrument. His elegant brows arched in pleased surprise as he took the instrument in his hands, turning it over to examine the underside. Sam grinned. She'd never thought she'd witness the big Jaffa literally 'chattering,' but his interchange with Beth really couldn't be described any other way.

She was still chuckling when Colonel O'Neill stepped into the center of the room, standing beside the three young men.

"Okay, folks. Time to get this shindig underway!" Hoots and laughter drowned him out. "Hey! I'm taking names, here!" More laughter greeted his playful scowl, but the noise gradually abated. "All right! Now, I'm sure you've noticed that this isn't your normal, everyday sort of party. Aside from the occasion..." He gestured and bowed toward Sam, accompanied by more shouts and applause. "Many thanks to Major Carter for admitting to one more year... though the exact total is classified 'Need to Know,' and none of us has yet managed to demonstrate that need..." He favored her with a jaunty salute, which she returned briskly. "Now, time for a confession. I *definitely* had an ulterior motive for bullying Sam into letting me throw this party. I'm about to... Damn!"

The chime of the doorbell interrupted him again. He glared fiercely at the guests.

"'Scuse me... I'll be right back. You're not off the hook."

He moved quickly to the door, glanced through the peephole, then called to Daniel as he reached for the knob.

Daniel handed Jason his guitar and hurried to join the colonel at the door. Soft murmurs and greetings wafted through the increasing noise of the room.

Sam patted Janet and Cassie on their respective thighs and hauled herself out of her nest. She reached the door just as Daniel crouched down to exchange a few signed words with the young girl who stood on the porch, tucked tightly into the side of a tall, elegantly dressed woman.

Jack ushered the new arrivals into the warmth of the house, gently stroking the child's head.

"Hey, Sam. This is Daniel's cousin, Cynthia. We met in Denver when... well, you remember. And this..." another stroke for the straight brown hair, "... this is Manda."

Sam smiled at the nervous looking woman and offered her hand. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

Cynthia returned the smile a bit hesitantly. "I'm sorry... Daniel said you wouldn't mind if we..."

"Not at all. Daniel *did* ask me first, and I'm delighted to meet some of his family. We're happy to have you here. The more of us there are, the less likely it is anyone will notice when I make a fool of myself." Sam winked at the other woman, happy to see her relax a bit.

Daniel stood, Manda in one arm. "Sam..."

The child solemnly offered her hand. Sam grasped it, and smiled into the serious face. "Hi, Manda"

She was rewarded with a shy smile and the wriggle of expressive little fingers.

Daniel tilted his head and smiled at Sam. "That was 'Hi, Sam.'"

Sam exchanged a happy grin with the child, then stood back and gestured toward the crowded living room. "C'mon and join the party."

The colonel rubbed his hands gleefully. "Right! Hey folks!" The racket stilled. "This is Cyn, Daniel's long lost cousin." More hoots and laughter. "And this is Manda. Let's find the lady some place to sit, why don't we?"

Sergeant Streager jumped up from the armchair he'd been sitting in. "Here, ma'am. Nice and warm."

Cyn smiled hesitantly, and moved slowly into the room. She nodded her gratitude to the big Marine, and sat, pulling Manda into the chair beside her. He smiled back, then settled himself on the little stool that had been Airman Tailor's refuge.

The colonel returned to his bully pulpit position, still rubbing his hands together with eager smugness as Daniel slipped quietly back onto his tall stool, again sheltered by the standing bodies of his friends.

"All right, back to business. This party... " he waved his hand at the motley collection of instruments cradled by or sitting next to their owners, "... came about because of a discovery I made last Christmas. And you're all about to make the same discovery." The grin splitting his face was triumphant and excited. "First, for those who haven't met them yet... I'd like to introduce Daniel's friends from his college days. This is Jason Enright." Jason grinned at Sam, then bowed. "And this is Ian Conrad. Watch out for him, ladies. He's a very wicked young man." Ian twirled an imaginary moustache, then flourished as he also bowed. "And the lovely lady currently enchanting our friend Teal'c is Jason's mother, Beth. The three of them took very good care of our Doctor Jackson before he was a doctor."

Daniel's cheeks pinked slightly as he looked up at Ian and Jason. Jason nudged him with his hip.

"Bloody hell, Jack. This your part of the entertainment?"

Jack shot Ian a stern look as the room resounded with laughter. "Watch it, limey. I know where you're keeping that fiddle tonight."

Ian shrank back in mock terror, raising a placating hand. Jack nodded smugly, and turned back to his captive audience. The second his back was turned the lifted hand morphed into a wagging, chattering 'mouth.' As the room exploded in laughter, O'Neill spun around to glare at the Englishman, who just grinned, hand continuing to natter on.

"All right, smart ass. How about you just... play?" He took a moment to grip Daniel's shoulder and smile into his face, then headed for the chair he'd staked out beside the couch, face suffused with anticipation and not a little pride.

"Right!" Ian turned back to Daniel and Jason and lifted the fiddle to his chin. "Let's get those butts out of those seats, shall we?"

The three men remained motionless for a long moment, then Daniel's fingers plucked a driving rhythm out of his guitar, Jason joined in with a deeper supporting line, Ian's bow flashed and began to dance over the strings.

Sam's mouth gaped open in astonishment. She heard Janet's harshly indrawn gasp beside her. The doctor was hearing Daniel for the first time. Sam had heard him play, but

Nothing could have been more unlike the sweet, gentle music she'd previously heard Daniel coax from his guitar. This was... rousing. Exhilarating, invigorating, intoxicating. Her feet twitched eagerly, moved by an irresistible urge to drag her up and *dance* along with the three joyously intertwined instruments.

As they played, the two standing men moved gradually away from their companion, opening up their private little circle to draw the rest of the room into their ecstasy. And that's what it was, no possibility of mistake. All three of their faces were brilliant with joy. Daniel's eyes were closed, his expression glowing with happiness.

She understood Ian's instructions about Daniel now. Get him playing, and he wouldn't care about the crowd, the listening ears. Just the music.

Oh my God. The music. Sam drew her feet up onto the couch, tucking her knees under her chin, arms wrapped tightly around them to keep their rebellion under control, and gave herself to the amazing swell of the music.

* * *

Jack felt his gut tighten with the same astounded happiness he remembered from that first magical evening in Jason's beach house. He recognized this number as the first one the three young men had played back in December. He also realized that, wonderful as that performance had been, this was better. It didn't seem possible, but *Daniel* was better.

Of course he was better. Back then, he hadn't touched a guitar in five years. Now, Jack could personally attest to the fact that those talented fingers were spending quite a bit of time each day caressing something other than Jack O'Neill, though Jack himself wasn't suffering. And Daniel's little family of guitars had grown from the original two to five... three shiny new hard-shell cases sitting beside Jack's battered old friend, the high-tech case that housed the Katsuo, and the shabby old soft-shell that held Melburn Jackson's old Martin. There was also a case that looked suspiciously like a *violin* case, just recently added to the row.

Though he never would have suspected it, he could recognize in retrospect that Daniel *had* been out of practice. There was an additional crispness and clarity to his play now. And he'd been messing around with some pretty adventurous stuff as well. Jack figured Ian was in for a surprise or two before the party was over.

And of course, Jack's own carefully planned surprise was a resounding success. He glanced around at the astonished faces in the room. The various SGC members were all frozen in some expression of wonderment. Even the phlegmatic Siler was gaping at the young man he'd worked beside for five years.

Carter was rolled up into a little ball, rocking backward and forward, a silly, delighted grin on her face. Janet was bouncing slightly, face glowing with wonder. The general's pale blue eyes were totally round, matching the shape of his mouth.

And Cassie... Well, Cassie was staring at Daniel as if she'd witnessed him sprout wings and take flight.

Jack mentally rubbed his hands together in glee. Gotcha!

A final flying coda, and the wonderful sounds faded. For a few seconds, the room was frozen in silence. Then an eruption of whistling, stomping and clapping barraged the three men.

Ian grinned and bowed, gesturing toward the other two men. Jason mirrored the bow, and Daniel ducked his head, a sweet smile curving his lips.

As the noise abated, the Englishman tucked his fiddle back under his chin and gave them a lead into another number. The two guitars picked up the tune, and they were off again. As the lively sounds swept over him, Jack became conscious of the murmur of Beth's fond voice. She was leaning over toward Teal'c, apparently regaling him with tales of his team-mate's youth.

"'Ere, Mum!" Ian's voice floated over the gymnastics of his fiddle. "Stop yer natterin' and make yourself useful!"

Beth wriggled happily. "I get to play!"

She lifted her little drum in her left hand, grasping a polished wooden stick with rounded, club-like ends in the other, then stood and moved into the space created by the three musicians. Wielding her beater gently, she added a subtle, complex percussion to the ensemble. Ian grinned and nodded, sweeping them into yet another variation of the tune.

They wound up the piece to more rousing shouts and applause. Ian wrapped an arm around Beth, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

"Lovely, MaBeth. No more mutterin' in the background, now."

She grinned fondly up at him. "You know I can still put you over my knee, don't you?"

He shouted with laughter and hugged her close. "Any time you want, Mum. Any time you want."

She shook herself as he released her, then slid back into her seat beside Teal'c. "I think it's time for something silly, don't you? Get it out of the way early?"

Jack quirked an eyebrow at the quartet. "Something silly?"

Beth smiled fondly at him. "Oh, yes. A tradition."

Ian and Jason were nudging Daniel playfully. "Gotta keep Daniel from getting too serious."

Daniel met Jason's eyes. "Serious is good."

Jason pulled his mouth down in a disapproving frown. "Not all the time, MummyBrain. Time for something silly."

The room erupted again at the silly name. Daniel ducked his head, then lifted his eyes to meet Ian's gaze. Jack almost laughed out loud at the expression in those way-too-innocent blue orbs. He realized Daniel had been waiting for this.

"Okay. Something silly." He ran the fingers of his left hand along the polished wood of his guitar's neck, apparently considering, then settled himself and played a light, skipping intro that reminded Jack somehow of 'Turkey in the Straw.' The other two men laughed and picked up the joyful little tune.

They tossed the light-hearted melody around among them, playing variations, modulating into different keys, teasing each other and the melody. They slid into a minor key for another variation, and Jack realized that Daniel's approach had undergone a significant alteration. Abruptly, the delicate little shadowings of the melody, the counterpoint and harmonic lines had given way to an impressive block chordal pattern. His left hand leapt up and down the neck of the guitar, amazingly springing from bar chord to bar chord, finding each new location with absolute security.

Jason's shout of laughter and Ian's exclamation of, "Bloody hell, Daniel!" assured him that he wasn't the only one impressed.

"I do believe the gauntlet has been flung!" Jason laughed over the continuing music.

Daniel's lips were curved in a taunting little smile, though his attention was glued to the neck of the guitar--a sure sign he was stretching his limits, as he generally played virtually without ever looking at his hands.

Jack cocked an eyebrow at Beth, who was rocking and clapping with delight. "It's their game, Jack. Their game."

Still puzzled, he shrugged, sat back in his chair, and went along for the ride.

Ian was still fiddling away, moving the music into what was obviously a transitional passage... a bridge to more mischief.

Lips twitching with humor, he pivoted as he played, eyes sweeping over the delighted guests until they fixed on the awe-struck face of Airman Joan Tailor. "Yes! 'Ere, love. Grab your fiddle."

The color drained out of her face, and she shook her head vigorously.

"C'mon, lass. Listen to him..." Daniel's fingers flew over the frets. "'E's taunting me! Help me out, here. We've gotta gang up on him; come play that tune we were messing with earlier."

Eyes wide with horror, she yielded to the urging of the people around her and stood, moving slowly into the space Ian made for her. He winked at her, smile bright and kind.

"C'mon, you'll be great. Ready, now?"

Gulping, she lifted the instrument up under her chin and raised her bow in an obviously shaking hand.

"Courage, love." He dropped his voice to a stage whisper. "Daniel doesn't know this one. Play it just like you showed me."

She nodded jerkily, eyes locked on his face.

"All right, ready, then? Watch-watch. I'll give you the mark." Gaze fixed on her, he gave her two small nods, then a third sharp one, and her bow moved strongly over the strings, playing the opening vamp of a new tune.

She was good. She didn't have the brilliance or the amazing precocity of Ian's style, but she was obviously well able to hold her own. Ian let her play for several measures by herself, then joined her in a wonderful duet.

As the fiddles settled into the new number, Daniel's gaze shifted from his own hands to Ian's. He was now playing straightforward chord patterns and arpeggios, obviously catching the chord changes by watching what Ian was playing. Jason's deeper guitar covered the same harmonies and rhythm patterns.

Joan's nerves had obviously settled. She was now the fourth corner in their little musical square, and was having a wonderful time. As the repetitions of the sections of the tune rolled past her, she began to attempt some of the more complex runs and trills that Ian was playing, with his enthusiastic encouragement.

Daniel's face had settled into that disconcerting concentration-born fugue state that signified his formidable brain was fully engaged and focused on a single task. His gaze never left Ian's hands. Gradually, his playing shifted from the supportive rhythm and chording to snippets of harmonic line and descant. Then, abruptly, his mouth relaxed into a smile and his eyes closed.

"He's got it!" Beth's trill of triumphant laughter joined the joyous music. "Too bad, Ian!"

And he did have it. Daniel's fingers were now flicking over the strings, playing a third part with the two fiddles, sometimes playing melody, sometimes harmony. The duet had become a trio.

Ian was laughing. He pivoted around, pulling his eyes away from Joan long enough to scowl playfully at Daniel.

"Dammit, Daniel... you're a monster! All right, time to put this to bed. You with me, Joan?"

She nodded, cheek still tucked tightly against the fiddle, bow still dancing over the strings.

"Okay, here's our coda. Watch-watch, love. Here's something to take home."

He bowed a flourish, then, obviously heading toward the finish, leaned close so she could watch his hands as he played a little descending passage--a fluttery little curtsey. Rather than stroking the bow, he lifted it and rapidly plucked the strings with his left hand, high up the neck of the fiddle, creating a crisp, dry chuff with each tone.

Joan shrieked softly in delight. He grinned and said, "Watch-watch!" as he repeated the little sequence. Then turning to Daniel and Jason, he called, "Once more!"

They played through the coda again, and as his little virtuoso sequence approached, he turned back to Joan.

"Your turn!"

And she did it, a bit clumsily, missing a few notes, but recognizably the same trick.

"Yes! And once more..."

The final time was much better. She laughed with joy, then followed him as he carried them all through the final cadence.

As the ring of the music faded, Joan bent over, hugging her fiddle to her chest and laughing in sheer delight.

"Oh, my God! That was so wonderful!"

The guests were roaring with approval. Jason, Daniel and Ian laughed with the young woman, hugging each other and all chattering at once.

Amid the noise, Jack leaned over to catch Beth's attention.

"What's this game you were talking about, Beth?"

She laughed and shouted over the racket. "They've done that almost from the first. Daniel does something outrageous on the guitar, then Ian tries to stump him."

"Ever do it?"

"Nope. Daniel always catches up before Ian's finished."

Jack shook his head in wonder. He remembered Ian talking about how much Daniel had pushed him; he began to see a bit of the reason. And they thought it was all *fun*!

"You want to play another, Joan?" Ian asked.

Her nod was at least as vigorous as her original refusal had been. They chatted for moment, finding another tune they shared, then they were at it again. After the first run through the song, Beth joined in with her bodhran, then Teal'c added the rumbling bass of his /karushna/. Siler's fingers finally gave in to the urge to play, and his guitar joined Jason's playing the rhythm support. Streager's mandolin contributed an obbligato over the top. Ian's grin widened with each additional instrument.

"Yes!" he exclaimed as they finished. "That was lovely!"

The room buzzed with chatter and good-natured laughter as the impromptu members of the ensemble were prodded and teased about their contributions.

Jack's grin felt like it was about to split his face. This was terrific... even better than he'd hoped.

* * *

Cyn's head was spinning. This was... unbelievable. She was aware that she'd created a very tall pedestal with the name 'Daniel' inscribed on its base, but this was beyond anything she'd ever suspected.

For a moment, she tried to imagine her own family engaged in this kind of activity. God, not in a million years. She remembered a few excruciating evenings listening to her sister-in-law massacre the first movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata on the piano, or enduring her dreadful niece's out-of-tune singing as the little monster prepared for yet another pageant.

This was what music was *supposed* to be. Joyous. Inclusive. A celebration.

She looked around at all the strange faces. And for a moment, she was overwhelmed by a sense of dissociation. She'd severed her ties with the only family she'd ever known, and now here she was--an outsider, intruding into someone else's warmth and happiness.

She tightened her hold around Manda's body, overcome by a fierce longing. She wanted this. Wanted to belong in this group.

Her eyes met Daniel's, and he smiled gently, affectionately. And she felt that knot of loneliness loosen just a bit.

* * *

Sam sighed with regret as the three young men made sounds indicating that they were ready for a rest.

Transferring his bow to his left hand, Ian shook out his right hand. He bowed in Sam's direction, blowing her a kiss.

"That's enough from us for a while, love. How about some of these other guys picking up some slack?"

Daniel arched his back, then stood up from his stool. "Oh, yeah. This is a party, not a concert." Nodding shy acknowledgement of the crowd's appreciation, he moved behind the coffee table to the small space between Cassie's corner of the couch and O'Neill's chair, carefully protecting his guitar as he slid down to sit on the floor. Sam smiled a secret smile and pretended not to see the fingers that gently stroked his cheek.

"Siler, you've been sitting there hugging that guitar. I've heard rumors about the blues." O'Neill nodded encouragingly to the technician.

Siler's mouth stretched in one of his slow, careful smiles. He returned the colonel's nod, and winked at Sam. Then his hands, nicked and scratched with the unavoidable consequences of his profession, began to caress the strings of his big guitar. As Ian and Jason sank down to sit on the floor beside Sam's feet, the notes gained volume and confidence, then the melancholy tones of a melody eased through the chords. Close against her side, Sam felt Janet's body jerk slightly as Siler softly said, "Saint Louis Blues."

Siler played through the verse and chorus twice, fingers sliding and rolling over the strings. The sound and mood were completely different from the brilliant ring of Daniel's treble instrument, or the mellow solidity of Jason's. The tune slid and swayed, weeping with melodic angst. Bodies seated around the room on chairs, steps, pillows and floor rocked, irresistibly moved by the sweet sorrow of the music. Siler's phlegmatic face softened, his mouth moving, hinting at the words he wouldn't sing.

As he rounded out the repetition of the chorus, Janet patted Sam's thigh, then stood and worked her way over to Siler's chair. She touched his shoulder, raising an eyebrow in inquiry. He cocked his head at her, mouthing a silent question. She grinned, and said, "E, please."

Nodding, he completed his chorus, then improvised an impressively adept modulation, settling into a blues riff in the new key. Janet sat down at his feet; as he reached the beginning of the verse, she tossed her head back and began to sing.

"I hate to see that evenin' sun go down...  
Hate to see that evenin' sun go down,  
Cause my baby, he done left this town.  
If I feel tomorrow like I feel today...  
Feel tomorrow like I feel today,  
I'll pack up my trunk, and make my getaway."

A buzz of appreciation swept through the listeners as she eased through the melody. Her voice was powerful and richly human, perfectly fitted to the lament of the song. The southern influence in her speech suited the old song, warming and gentling the sometimes bitter mood of the lyrics.

"Got them Saint Louis Blues, just as blue as I can be.  
That man got a heart like a rock cast into the sea.  
Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me."

As she repeated the final chorus, other instruments softly joined. The sweet chime of Daniel's guitar was supported by deeper tones from Jason's and, surprisingly, a scuffed old instrument that had appeared in Colonel O'Neill's hands; a high, shivering descant trembled from Sergeant Streager's mandolin. Slow, rumbling beats from Teal'c's amazing drum were joined by a lighter, livelier counter-beat from the much smaller drum in Beth's hands. And finally, the two fiddles picked up the sighing tune, playing melody and intimate harmony. They finished with a final repeat of the chorus, an impromptu orchestra.

Sam again tucked her feet up and wrapped her arms around her knees, rocking backward and forward in wordless delight. Next to her on the couch, Cassandra was bouncing joyously, hand beating the rhythm on the padded arm of the sofa. On the other side, the General was beaming, shaking his head in bemused astonishment.

Siler's eyes met Sam's, his smile reflecting her face-stretching grin. As the lament finally sank into silence, he lifted his hand from the strings of his guitar and tossed her a salute.

"Happy birthday, Major Carter."

"Holy Hannah!" She was laughing. "Wow!"

"That's one hell of a set of pipes, Janet!" Admiration glowed in Jason's face as he shook his head at the diminutive woman. "Just where are you hiding all that."

She waved airily at him. "Some day I'll tell you all about my secret past."

Sam leaned forward. "Secret past? So, just how *did* you finance medical school, Janet?"

The doctor laughed and winked. "I'll *never* tell. Let's just say that good ol' song is a good ol' friend of mine."

"As the birthday girl, I'm making an official request for an encore. Please sing another one, Janet."

Janet tilted her head, then stretched up to whisper in Siler's ear. An unaccustomed expression of surprise flashed across his face, then he grinned at her and nodded.

Janet stood and dusted off her long skirt. "Remember, you asked for this." She grinned at Sam, then nodded to Siler.

He played a brief, twangy little introduction. As the notes sounded, Janet's compact body somehow assumed a vaguely enticing, come-hither attitude. Her mouth curved into lush invitation, eyes half-lidded and promising.

"I wanna be a cowboy's sweetheart,  
I wanna learn to rope and ride.  
I wanna ride o'er the plains and the desert,  
Out west of The Great Divide... "

The room erupted with delight as she yodeled the chorus. And again when Siler joined her in the final chorus, the two of them yodeling in deliciously teasing harmony.

"I want to pillow my head near the sleeping herdWhile the moon shines down from above.I want to strum my guitar, yodel-lay-ee-ooOh, that's the life I love!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Sam was shouting with delight as the song finished. "Oh, Janet. Talk about lights under bushels!"

The doctor accepted the accolades from Sam and the others in the room with practiced composure. She patted Siler's shoulder, then leaned over to kiss his cheek. Amid the laughter at his blush, she made her way back over to the couch.

Sam noted Daniel's eyes fixed on Janet, delight and speculation in his expression.

"Daniel?"

"Hmm?

She prodded him with her foot, making him start and twist around to look at her.

"Just what are you thinking about so energetically."

He smiled a bit vaguely, and looked up into Janet's face as she stepped over him.

"Yodeling..."

Ian and Jason jerked upright.

"The hell you will...!"

"Not a chance, mate!"

Sam laughed at their simultaneous exclamations. "What?"

"Last time he got like this the subject was, God help us, bagpipes. He talked about the bloody things for two months before we finally diverted him. And I wouldn't be surprised to this day to find a practice chanter hidden in the back of his underwear drawer. The man defines stubborn..." Ian handed his fiddle to Jason, hauled himself to his knees and folded his hands in Janet's lap, the expression of a supplicant on his face. "Please, lovely Janet. Please don't agree to teach him."

She laughed and patted his copper curls. "For you, lovely man, anything."

Daniel wrinkled his nose at their antics. "You really think I can't teach myself?"

Ian and Jason exchanged a look, then turned in concert to fix gimlet stares on O'Neill's face.

Jason cleared his throat with intent. "You just might want to take note, Jack..."

Keeping his gaze locked on the colonel's, Ian leaned back against the cushion of the couch, stretching his feet out in front of him. "...Just keep in mind who gets to listen while he... practices."

Jack arched one brow, and fixed Daniel with a stern glare. "Ah... no yodeling, Daniel. And while we're on the subject, no bagpipes. You can consider that to be an order."

Daniel cocked a speculative eye up at the other man. "Can't do that, Jack. I'm a..."

"Yeah, yeah, we all know. You're a civilian. But trust me, I'll find a thousand ways to make your life miserable if you don't follow *this* order. Two yodelers on the base is at least one too many. And next time I visit your place, I'm searching that underwear drawer."

Daniel was laughing. "We'll see who makes whom miserable, oh Colonel. We'll see."

"Thank *God* I'm going back to England next week!"

The room rang with laughter as Ian flopped his head back in Janet's lap, arm draped tragically over his eyes.

As Janet wriggled comfortably back into her space beside Sam, she nodded at O'Neill and the scuffed veteran instrument in his lap. "And where did that little toy come from, Colonel?"

He looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Oh, I kinda found it in the back of a closet."

"Ja-ack!" Daniel's voice was gently scolding.

"Well, I did. So what if I sorta take it out and mess with it once in a while."

Daniel, wedged between Ian and the corner of the colonel's chair, smiled up at him. "Play, Jack," he said softly.

O'Neill's grinning mouth twisted. "I don't know, Danny. No living person other than you has heard me play this thing since I was about sixteen."

"No escape, Jack." Daniel gently slapped O'Neill's calf. "You made the rules for this party. You play. And you sing, too."

"Oh, damn. I *really* don't think these poor folks are ready for *that*, Daniel."

"Play. And sing. Or maybe I'll start those new lessons right now..."

Sam swallowed her chuckle. No doubt who was going to win this contest. She didn't think the colonel had any doubts, either. The phrase, "around his little finger," sprang to mind. O'Neill was sunk.

He was still resisting, shaking his head, face losing color by the second. A tiny bit of the laughter escaped. Colonel O'Neill was *bashful*. She'd never have believed it. But he wasn't going to be given a choice.

"Play, Jack." The soft voice was implacable. With a resigned sigh, the colonel settled the old guitar and began to putter with the tuning pegs, adjusting already perfectly tuned strings, frittering, delaying.

"Jack..."

O'Neill drew a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, then blew the breath out forcefully and began to play. A murmur of surprised pleasure rumbled through the room.

Ragtime!

He played through a medley of several familiar old tunes, wonderfully new as they were wrapped up in the irresistible rhythms of ragtime. The colonel's style was laid back and comfortable, but his fingers slid through the twists and turns of the complicated, syncopated musical style with apparent ease--bass, melody and counter-melody playing with each other, bouncing gently off one another in a courteous aural dance.

He finished the medley to delighted applause, directing a smirking grin at Sam, who was shaking her head in bemused astonishment.

"Jack..." Daniel was prodding O'Neill's knee, mouth drown down in a playful frown. "Sing, Jack. No escape."

The colonel rolled his eyes, then started in on a lively vamp sequence.

Daniel grinned. "Yes! Mandolin song!"

Jack's playful scowl softened to an indulgent grin. Then he shook his head, took another deep breath, and sang.

"Biddly-um-bum-bum, biddly-um-bum...  
Here comes the man with the mandolin.  
Biddly-um-bum-bum, biddly-um-bum...  
He'll fill you up like your ship's come in..."

Sam felt a bubble of laughter at the incongruity of the silly lyric bubbling out of her commanding officer's mouth. His voice was a bit rough and definitely untrained, kind of deep and scratchy. And absolutely suited to the style he chose.

"All the kids foller, and they holler  
Up to the window above,  
'Mamma, drop a nickel, and the man'll pick  
A little... tune we love...'"

A few exclamations of pleasure punctuated the music as Streager and his mandolin joined O'Neill, creating a perfect descant over the deep tones of the guitar and the rolling comfort of Jack's baritone voice.

"Raggedy old minstrel, playin' a sweet tune,  
Comes around every afternoon.  
Lovable old fellow, wearin' a big grin...  
Here comes the man with the Mandolin!"

A final little duel between the guitar and the mandolin, and they were finished. O'Neill laughed, reaching out to shake Streager's hand. The big sergeant was beaming with pleasure, exchanging words of appreciation with Jack and flushing a bit when he received them in return.

General Hammond's head was wagging back and forth. "Colonel O'Neill, I find myself without adequate words. Are you sure you aren't really Jack O'Neill's secret, look-alike second cousin?"

"Ah, that would be a 'no,' Sir." The colonel tipped his head, thinking. "He can't play the guitar."

Shouts of laughter drowned out the rest of his words. Sam leaned out and looked him up and down. "You mean there's another one?"

He smirked and winked, then set the old guitar back into the stand sitting beside his chair. "Just when you think you're safe--there he'll be. And he can make a bomb out of toothpicks and eyedrops. So watch your six, Major."

* * *

The music had stopped for the moment, the various musicians flowing as one toward the food-laden counter and the refrigerator.

Cyn glanced up at a tap on her shoulder. Daniel's friend Sam was smiling down at her.

"Hey, you two interested in getting something to eat? The colonel has a great deck; and the sun is shining."

Cyn hesitated for a moment, then took the plunge. She smiled back, signed her intent to Manda, and stood. Moments later, the three of them had been joined by the small doctor with the wonderful voice, and by a pretty teenager. They settled happily at a wooden table, hair ruffled by the breeze, eyes squinting in the bright sunlight.

"Cyn, this is Janet Fraiser, and her daughter Cassandra. Janet, Cassie, this is Cyn, and this..." she paused to stroke Manda's head and meet the child's eyes, "... is Manda, Cyn's daughter. Cyn is Daniel's cousin."

Smiling, Cyn shook hands with Janet, then dutifully with Cassandra, who was obviously feeling the dignity of her advancing years. "Nice to meet you."

Cassie looked at the stranger, speculation bright in her eyes. "I didn't know Daniel had any cousins."

Cyn felt her cheeks redden under her makeup. "I didn't know I had a Daniel for a cousin, either. We just met a few months ago."

Cassie's face fell. "Oh. That means you don't know any secret stories about his childhood, right?"

Sam laughed at the disappointment in the youngster's face. "Now, why would you want to know stuff like that?"

"Blackmail material!"

Cyn started. "Blackmail?"

Sam shook her head, still laughing. "Don't worry, Cyn. Not the serious kind." She slipped one arm around Cassie's shoulders and stretched the other hand out to gently touch the cheek of the solemn ten-year-old still clinging to Cyn's side. "Hey, Manda. This is Cassie."

Cassie smiled down at the child with all the superiority of her fifteen years, and held out her hand. Manda looked hesitantly up at her mother, who signed and spoke, "Daniel's friend Cassie."

Cass glanced at Sam in surprise, then turned back to the smaller girl. "Hi, Manda." She spoke with exaggerated slowness.

"Just speak normally, Cassie." Cyn touched the teenager lightly on the shoulder. "She's fairly good at reading lips, but if you distort the way you talk, she won't be able to understand."

Cassie looked up into Cyn's face, then reached out and took Manda's hand. "Hello, Manda." This time she spoke carefully, but naturally.

Manda smiled shyly and slowly shaped a short string of signs.

"That was 'Hello, nice to meet you,'" Cyn translated.

Cassie's smile broadened to a grin. "That's so cool! Can I learn to do that?"

Manda nodded eagerly, then tugged on Cyn's sleeve and signed rapidly.

Cyn laughed. "If you want, you've got a teacher, Cass."

"Cool!"

Cyn ruffled Manda's hair, then took a sip of her water. "So, Sam and Janet, you... both of you... you work with Daniel?"

Janet grinned. "Oh, yes, I think you could say that. Though the less I have to work with him the better."

Surprised, Cyn raised her eyebrows.

Laughing, Sam stuffed a chip into her mouth. "She's a doctor, Cyn. She sees us most when we get sick or do something stupid."

Cyn stared at the blond woman for a moment. "You... Do you get hurt very much?"

"Too much!" Cassie's mouth pursed in a disapproving scowl.

Janet stroked her daughter's head apologetically. "They do spend rather more time in my infirmary than I'd wish."

"Just what is it that you *do*?" Cyn asked, confused. "I mean--what kind of trouble can you get into here in Colorado Springs, of all places?"

Sam's lips twitched into a secret little smirk, her gaze sliding away to watch a pair of birds quarreling in one of the trees. "Oh, you'd be surprised."

Cyn opened her mouth to probe further, but was stopped by Sam's silencing finger. "What we do is classified, Cyn. Much as we all want to get to know you, we can't discuss it with you. Sorry."

Disappointed, Cyn nodded, then applied herself to her sandwich, whose contents were showing signs of attempting escape.

"On the other hand..." Sam's eyes glinted with laughter. "There's you. About whom most of us are embarrassingly curious."

Cyn felt her cheeks warm again. "Um... what did you want to know?"

Janet smiled sweetly, "Oh, all the good gossipy stuff. Starting with why it is that none of us knew any of your family existed. We all thought Daniel's only relative was his... rather eccentric maternal grandfather."

"Hasn't Daniel told you?" Cyn was concentrating hard on keeping that sandwich under control, which conveniently kept her eyes away from their intent faces.

"Not much," Sam laughed. "Daniel has this strange delusion that nobody really cares about his personal life."

Cassie giggled through her straw, incidentally bubbling her soda. "Yeah, like anyone would believe that."

Sam elbowed the teenager. "Daniel does."

"I... well, Daniel and I have the same grandfather. Daniel's father was my father's younger brother."

"But Daniel's father changed his name, right?" Sam asked.

Cyn nodded. She glanced back and forth between the two women, teeth clamping down on her lower lip. For some reason that made them both grin.

She took a deep breath. These women were Daniel's friends. He loved them. And he wouldn't if they weren't kind, trustworthy people.

"Our grandfather... well, he's awful. My whole family is pretty awful." She smiled at their rapt faces. "Daniel's father was the only one of Grandfather's children who had enough backbone to just leave. Talk about putting the old monster's nose out of joint! He wasn't even mentioned in the family when I was growing up."

"You mean he left... on purpose?" Cassandra abruptly broke off the exploratory finger-wiggling she'd been exchanging with Manda.

Janet slipped her arm around her daughter's waist. "Honey, some families aren't very happy; you know that."

"But he just left his parents! How could he..." The youngster was obviously upset.

Tugging her daughter closer, Janet kissed her cheek. "Some people just aren't very good parents, honey. And sometimes the best thing for a child to do is... leave."

Cyn nodded. "It was certainly the best thing for Jenson... um, Melburn Jackson to do. *He* had a real life, unlike my father and uncle. I wish I'd known him."

"So... what happened? You know--when Daniel visited."

How to describe that outrageous evening? Suddenly, Cyn felt a bubble of laughter forcing its way up her throat. "Oh, God. What a show! Grandfather never knew what hit him. He was all set to flaunt Daniel in front of all of us. Show us what worthless worms we all were. Daniel just soaked us up, watched and listened as the old goat blustered and strutted. Then he threw the whole thing into Grandfather's face, and walked out. It was... it was like a stiff wind from the Arctic. Clean, cold and inexorable."

"Yes! I knew it!" Sam was laughing with her. "Trust Daniel. Everyone thinks he's such a sweet, quiet little thing. But push him the wrong way, and look out, Saint George!"

"Well, he certainly won that encounter." Cyn ran her finger around the rim of her glass, smiling at the memories. "And he tipped my life completely on end."

She looked down at her daughter, smiling into the dark, serious eyes. "You know, you grow up in the envelope your family creates for you..." She pulled the child onto her lap, hugging tightly. "I never even thought much about my father, or my grandfather, and the ways they did things. Until I married. Until Manda."

Manda signed a question, and Cyn smiled down at her. She freed a hand to convey reassurance, then again wrapped it around the small, precious body.

"My husband is my grandfather's accountant. Let's just say that... discovering what kind of businessman Edward Tyrell is was a bit of a shock. Then... well, as he puts it, his 'standards are high'--though I've got another word for it--and when Manda..." She paused and drew a deep breath. This hurt never faded. "Manda was the first great-grandchild. She was born hearing impaired, and that didn't fit very well into his notion of what his family members should be like."

Janet exclaimed softly, wrapping her arm around her own daughter.

Cyn smiled tightly. "Yes. I see you understand. But... well, as I said, your universe is defined by your upbringing, and even though I was getting pretty unhappy, I never seriously thought I could just leave. Until Daniel." She kissed the top of Manda's head. "He figured things out the second he walked into the room. He... he talked to Manda. Just ignored the old monster, crouched down and talked to her. Do you know, in the ten years of her life, not a single one of her relatives has ever attempted to learn how to sign? I'd love Daniel for the rest of my life, just for that act of compassion.

"I left the next morning. Haven't been back. My husband is still with the company." She dropped her gaze to the remnants of her ambitious sandwich. "I... I filed Wednesday."

"Ouch!" Janet winced in sympathy. "Now *that's* an experience I can identify with."

Cyn shook her head sadly. "I love Ron... really. But he just won't... I refuse to go back and put myself under the thumb of that old tyrant again. If it's a choice between giving up my marriage and taking Manda back into that world, I'll make myself happy without him."

After a long moment of silence, she finally lifted her eyes, meeting the pained, sympathetic gazes of the other women. "Ah... is this some sort of secret Air Force interrogation technique?" She laughed self-consciously. "I can't believe I just unloaded all of that on you!"

Sam smiled and reached across to squeeze her wrist. "You're Daniel's family. That makes you ours, too. Welcome to our rather crazy 'household.'"

"Right!" Janet gave Cassie one final squeeze, then made cleaning-up motions. "So let's get ourselves back in there before the General gives away our seats. I hear guitars!"

Laughing, linking arms, the three women shepherded their two youngsters back into the house.

* * *

Jack split a bag of chips between two depleted bowls, handing the refreshed snacks to Cassie and her new assistant, Manda, to be plopped into the midst of the floor-sitting guests. They barely glanced up from their impromptu jam session. Jason, Siler and Streager were anchoring the play-around, encouraging others to sing and play along with them as they skipped from tune to tune. Fiddling festivities trickled in from the yard, where an impromptu clinic for two had Ian and Joan happily occupied. Carter had pulled Cyn out onto the deck to help supervise the lessons. Their laughter and suggestions punctuated the lively strains of the two instruments.

O'Neill shook his head, grinning in amazement. Then he glanced over his shoulder as he felt the warmth of a body's presence close by his side. Daniel, hands full of packages of pre-cut cheese and sandwich meats.

"They're having a great time," he chuckled in Jack's ear. "Lots of surprises today."

Jack smirked into happy blue eyes. "Only one better party I know of..."

"Jack, behave." Daniel's smile turned mischievous. He dropped his voice to a private level. "You'll last a few more hours."

"I don't know, Danny," Jack mourned, shaking his head. "You and that guitar... well, you know what that does to me."

"Try one of the ice bags. It should take the edge off. In the meantime, get those loaves of bread out so people can eat something other than junk for a while."

Jack sputtered in outraged laughter. "Ice bag! You little shit." He grabbed loaves of three different breads, attacking the twist-ties securing their closure. "You *know* I'll make you pay for that. They won't stay forever."

Daniel's head ducked as he arranged the sandwich fillings on a platter. "I'm counting on it, colonel," he whispered, eyes studiously avoiding Jack's.

"Oh, yeah. Go play that thing some more..."

Daniel treated him to one more loving grin, washed his hands, and obeyed.

Fingers busy with bread slices, eyes focused on a perfect rear end, Jack watched him cross the room to fetch his guitar. Oh, yeah.

His task completed, he drifted back to his armchair, leaning back lazily and enjoying the chaotic musical festivities of the group on the floor, now augmented with his own guitarist. Jason and Janet had been quick to scoot apart and make a space for Daniel, and he'd joined in the improvisational fun without hesitation.

"Hey, Uncle Jack." Cassie leaned over the back of his chair, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Got room?"

"For you, always. C'mere..." He pulled her around the chair and onto his lap, then lifted her small companion up to join them. Manda gazed at him with her big, bright eyes, then smiled and patted his cheek. Laughing, he shifted her slightly, tucking her snugly between his hip and the side of the chair.

There was no room on his lap; Cassie had grown so much that she demanded complete lap space. Fortunately, she'd quickly given up on the tiny little skirt and changed into the jeans her mother had insisted she bring along.

"You two enjoying yourselves? Thought you were out helping with Airman Tailor's lesson."

"Oh, yeah!" Cassie nodded vigorously, long hair swinging. "But I don't think they needed my help. Sam seems to be interfering enough. So Manda and I decided to sneak off and attack the junk food." She cuddled close. "Everyone is just great. My mom... wow. I never knew she could do that!"

He hugged her. "Just goes to show. Us old folks have lots of surprises for you young things."

"You were great. And Daniel! He... he's wonderful."

Jack swallowed the laugh that struggled to escape. Oh boy. Incipient hero-worship warning. He looked down as his sleeve was tugged, smiling at the mirrored adoration in Manda's face.

"Hey, sweetie. You like your new uncle, I take it?" He was careful to look directly into her face as he spoke.

She nodded vigorously, and he laughed and snuggled her closer. "Me, too," he whispered confidentially.

He settled Cassie comfortably against his shoulder, happily accommodating the suddenly bony elbows and knees of a rapidly growing teenaged girl. He savored the chance to hold her; she wouldn't want this much longer. Companionably, the three of them turned their attention toward the musicians' party in the middle of the room.

The group on the floor wrapped up their latest play-around with a riotous flourish and joyous whistles and shouts.

"Any of you guys know 'Last Winter Was a Hard One'?" Janet asked over the laughter. "It goes like this..."

She sang a couple of lines, then Jason suddenly nodded. "Oh, yeah." His fingers picked up an accompaniment. "I learned it as "Mrs. MacGuinness's Lament. Doesn't sound much like a lament."

By the time she got to the chorus, the others were beginning to play along.

"So rise up, Mrs. Riley, don't give away to blues.You and I will cut a shy new bonnet and new shoes.Hear the young ones cry, neither sigh nor sob,And wait 'til times get better, and MacGuinness gets a job."

The song was oddly light and tripping, considering it was about hard, hard times. The members of the impromptu ensemble were really getting into it.

"Bad luck to those Italians; I wish they'd stayed at home.We've plenty of our own kind, to eat up what we own..."

"Daniel, take the break after the chorus!" Jason called over the music.

Daniel nodded as they swept into the second chorus. As Janet finished, the bright, lively tones of his guitar emerged from the background to dance over the melody of the verse, tripping lightly around the tune and improvising flirtatious embellishments.

As he reached the last line, he called, "Sergeant Streager, you get the chorus."

"Got it." And as Daniel rounded off his rendering of the verse, the mandolin's bright voice floated above the group to ping through the chorus.

"How do they do that!" Cassie whispered in his ear. "They don't even know the song!"

He chuckled softly. "They're just da... darned good."

Janet laughed and clapped, then picked up the final verse as Streager finished the chorus.

"They work upon the railroad, they shovel snow and slush.But one thing in their favor, those Italians don't get lushed.They bring their money home at night and drink no dinner wine...And that's something I would like to say for your old man and mine!"

Oh, rise up Mrs. Riley..."

They wrapped up the energetic little song with a rousing repetition of the chorus, several of the men joining in to sing harmony under Janet's wonderfully flexible voice. As they played their final cadences, they broke into spontaneous shouts of delighted laughter.

"That was great! Got any more, Doctor Fraiser?" Streager's face was glowing. "Just great."

Siler's voice broke through the noisy chatter. "Doctor Jackson, that's one hell of a guitar."

Daniel's hand ran gently over the smooth patina of the face of his guitar's body; his face glowed with gentle pride. "Thanks. It was made for me, a long time ago."

"It's tuned high, right?"

"Mmm. A fourth high." He nodded, then sat for a moment looking at the phlegmatic technician. "Would you, um, like to try it?"

A frisson of surprise swept through Jack. Daniel was immensely careful of his beloved instrument. Jack himself had been invited to play it only twice.

Cassie leaned forward on his lap, Body tensing. "I didn't think he'd let anyone else play it."

"Well, he's really protective; it's a precious thing to him, that guitar. And musicians are pretty careful about stuff like that. No one would ever *ask* to play it. But if he offers..."

"Oh, yeah. I'd love to." Siler's rare smile curved his lips as he set his own instrument beside him on the floor.

Daniel handed the Katsuo carefully across the circle of musicians. "Just... no picks, okay?"

Siler nodded. "Right. No picks."

Sticking his flat-pick between his teeth, he settled the smaller guitar in his arms and stroked a chord. His brows shot up at the discordant sound.

"Oh, sorry." Color brightened Daniel's cheeks. "It's tuned in drop-D."

"Oh. Hmm." Siler thought for a moment, then again fretted a chord and stroked the strings, this time producing a much more pleasing sound. His face lit up. "Shit. Uh, 'scuse me, Doc Fraiser."

She chuckled. "No need to apologize, Sergeant. I hear much worse on a virtually hourly basis."

He nodded absently, and continued to play. "Damn, it just sings against your hands."

The pride in Daniel's smile was obvious. "Part of that's the high tuning. Those strings are... taut. But it's a wonderfully made guitar."

Siler began to invent a tune, fingers flicking against the tight strings, and the other musicians gradually picked up on the sweet little improvisation. Siler grinned, shaking his head as his meaningless noodling developed into a group performance.

They played for several minutes, letting Siler experiment with the unfamiliar guitar. As they began to wind down, Cassie suddenly smacked Jack's cheek with a quick kiss, then left him to drop to the floor and crawl into the circle of musicians. Taking advantage of Daniel's temporarily empty hands, she slid into his lap, straddling her legs over his and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Hi, Cass." He gave her a tight hug. "Having fun."

"Lots." She leaned back and eyed him speculatively, then pulled one hand from behind his neck to toy with the collar of his shirt.

"Um... Daniel...?"

"Yeees?" He drew the word out, brows arched in teasing query.

"Daniel, do you suppose... I mean... would you..." She huffed in frustration, gaze fixed on the top button of his shirt. "Couldyouteachmetoplay?"

"I beg your pardon?" His grin was wasted on the top of her head.

She pouted slightly. "Could. You. Teach Me. To. Play. The guitar." She emphasized each word with a poke to that button.

"Oh!" He feigned surprise. "Play the guitar, huh? Well, that's pretty much up to The Boss, here." He tilted his head toward Janet, seated beside him on the floor.

She turned her best pleading eyes on her mother. "Mom?"

Janet looked doubtful. "You know we're talking a lot of work, here? And you're not going to be playing like Daniel next week. Or next year, for that matter."

"Please, Mom? I *really* want to learn to play."

Janet leaned back, balancing herself with a hand on the floor. "What do you say, Daniel? What's involved?"

He smiled and pulled the youngster close again. "Basically, a bit of time each week for the two of us, quite a bit of practice time and, of course, a guitar."

"I can't play yours, right?"

"Right, honey. I'm sorry, but you can't. Some day maybe, but I have to be really sure you're going to treat it the way I want it to be treated first."

"That's what Jack said."

Daniel cast a glance in Jack's direction. Jack, in the process of lifting Manda up onto his lap, met it with a smile and nod.

"How much are we talking for the guitar, Daniel?" Janet was rubbing Cassie's back, smiling into the begging eyes.

He tilted his head, thinking. "Well, if she wants to play something like the way I play, we're talking steel strings, and that's a bit more expensive than a classical guitar. She should start with standard tuning but if she eventually wants to play high-strung, she'll need one that's very well constructed, with a really strong body and neck. If we get her a half-way decent instrument, we're talking probably four to five hundred dollars. You can get one for quite a bit less, but if she really takes to it, getting a good instrument now will be better in the end."

"And how much did you pay for those new guitars lined up against the wall over there?" she teased.

He grinned, unrepentant. "A lot more than four or five hundred dollars."

"That's what I thought."

"But she doesn't need that unless she really gets involved. One of those is a six-string folk guitar, similar to what she wants to play. But it's quite a bit bigger than what she'll want, both because she's smaller than I am, and because you really need a smaller guitar if you're going to tune it high; it's less likely to buckle under the strain. Besides, I got that guitar so I'd have one around with standard tuning. She could start out playing it, but at least before very long, you're going to have to get her a guitar of her own. And if you decide to go with this, you'd better let me come along when you go shopping for the guitar. You *don't* choose a serious guitar by the way it looks."

"Whew! More complicated than I figured." Janet ruffled Cassie's hair, an assault the girl suffered for the sake of the request on the table. "Did you get all of that? We're talking quite a bit of money, and Daniel's time as well. You'll promise me you'll really work at it, right?"

"Promise! I will!"

"All right. Since Daniel's willing, we'll give it a try."

"Yes!" Cassie bounced, making Daniel wince as she squashed his legs against the floor.

"I want you to promise that you'll stick with it, practice every day, for a year, before you decide that you're tired of it."

"I will. I promise!" Cassie gave Daniel another enthusiastic hug, then leaned across to offer the same to Janet. "Thank you, thank you!"

She jumped up and skipped out to the deck, heading for Sam's voice and vibrating with the joy of her big news.

Jack shook his head ruefully. He sincerely hoped Daniel realized what he'd just let himself in for. Should be a good show. He wondered if Daniel had ever tried to teach anyone to do what he did on that guitar.

* * *

"Whoa!" Sam rocked with the force of the impact of Cassie's body. "Hey, Cass!"

"Sam! Daniel's going to teach me to play the guitar!" The girl was jumping with excitement.

"Oh, boy. Lucky Daniel. Maybe I better have a little talk with him before your first lesson."

"Sam!" Cassie bumped her hip against the older woman's, laughing with her. "How long do you suppose it's going to be before I can actually play?"

"Honey, I haven't the faintest idea. Daniel plays a lot, and has since he was a kid. And he's pretty incredibly talented."

"Yeah." The teenager deflated slightly. "I'll probably never be any good."

Sam wrapped her arms around the girl and rocked her back and forth, laughing gently. "Oh, sweetie. Who knows? Maybe you're incredibly talented as well. And you don't want to play like Daniel. You want to play like our lovely Cassie."

Cassie pulled free, laughing. "Oh, there's that frustrated 'Mom' thing. Don't worry, Sam. I don't think I'll be emotionally scarred if I don't become a guitar virtuoso."

Sam tugged on her hair. "I'm sure you won't."

The whoosh of the sliding door announced Manda's quiet arrival. She slipped through the door and up to Cassie's side, tugging on her mother's sleeve. Having gained the attention she wanted, she signed something to Cyn, face reflecting pleading eagerness.

Cyn's smile faded, and her brow wrinkled in consternation. For a long moment, she didn't reply. Then she slid down onto the plank surface of the deck and pulled Manda onto her lap. Carefully, she signed a reply. Some of the eagerness drained from Manda's face, and she responded with greater pleading. Another long pause, then Cyn replied slowly. Manda's face dropped for a moment, and when she looked up, her expression was again solemn and a bit withdrawn. She nodded, clearly unhappy, and wriggled off her mother's lap.

Cyn tipped her head back against the rail. "Damn," she whispered.

"What, Cyn? What did she want?"

"She's curious about what Daniel's going to be teaching Cassie. She wants to learn, too."

"To play the guitar?"

"Mmm. Of course, she doesn't really understand what this is all about, just that Cassie's excited, and Daniel's doing it. How can I pretend that she can learn to play a musical instrument?"

Some of the excitement faded from Cassie's face. She stooped down to Manda's height. "Hey, Manda. Why don't you show me how to do some of those signs?"

After a moment, Manda nodded, smiling shyly, then looked at her mother for permission. A sliver of eagerness was beginning to show through the sorrow.

"Great! Come on... let's go inside." As she tugged the child toward the glass door, Cassie glanced back over her shoulder at Cyn. "Okay if I feed her junk food and juice?"

Cyn laughed softly. "Fine, within reason."

The two women watched the mismatched youngsters skip eagerly back into the house, and shared a bemused smile.

"I really hope Cassie can get Manda's mind off that guitar. How much do you suppose they're going to be able to understand each other?"

Sam laughed. "Well, that might just depend on whether Manda's old enough to have discovered N'Sync yet."

Cyn joined her mirth. "Oh, then they aren't going to have any problems at all! Considering she can't *hear* them, Manda's devotion is surprising, but no less complete."

Sam shook her head, grinning down at the boards of the deck. "I'm sure I was *never* like that."

"Oh, Sam. One way or another, I think we *all* were."

"Yep." Sam gestured toward the door. "Shall we follow them? I'm getting a bit chilly, and Ian and Joan have already deserted us."

"I noticed that. I'm not sure they appreciated our... help."

"Ingrates." Sam winked and pulled the door open.

* * *

After several riotously musical hours, things seemed to be settling down a bit. For the moment, the instruments were all silent, the singing voices resting in preparation for later efforts.

Sam found herself happily sandwiched between Ian and Jason, sitting on the floor against the front of the couch and being plied with beer and munchies. Beth, Cyn and Janet sat chattering behind them, and Daniel was again curled up beyond Ian--conveniently adjacent to the chair occupied by the colonel.

Sam smiled up at the General as he returned from a trip to the kitchen, happily accepting the bottle of water she'd requested to dilute the beer. There was a long way to go yet, and she had no intention of missing a minute of it due to a fuzzy head.

As she shifted forward to give the General room to seat himself in his corner of the couch, she became aware that Daniel was no longer paying much attention to the lively laughter and conversation the rest of them were enjoying. His brows were slightly furrowed, eyes fixed across the room. She tracked his gaze to Cassie and Manda, nestled together in the big armchair and apparently managing very efficient communication.

She looked back toward Daniel, whose attention had shifted up toward the colonel. The furrow was gone, and an imp of mischief was playing around the corners of his mouth.

He reached up and twitched O'Neill's sleeve, then gestured toward the battered guitar leaning against its stand on the other side of the colonel's chair. Brows arching, the colonel obliged by picking up the instrument and checking the tuning.

As Jack fussed with the strings, Daniel stood and beckoned to Manda, smiling affectionately and shaping something with his hands. Shyly, she returned the smile, then slid down from Cassie's side and, with considerable doubtful assistance from the bodies sprawled on the floor, made her way across the room.

Daniel routed Streager, who'd been crouching like a troll on the small footstool, then slid the stool into the spot Daniel himself had been occupying, tucked close beside the colonel's chair.

"Manda, honey, you remember Jack?" His elegant hands shaped symbols as he spoke.

Manda flicked her gaze away from Daniel and smiled bashfully at the colonel as she yielded to Daniel's attempts to seat her on the stool. She nodded, small, thin hands deftly flying. Jack's eyes shot up toward Daniel, who carefully shaped several symbols, pronouncing, "Hi, Manda," as he signed.

O'Neill grinned, dropped his eyes back to Manda's attentive face, and mimicked the signs. She laughed in delight.

"So, why's she laughing, Dannyboy?"

The other man grinned, shaking his head. "Your signs are a bit... unusual."

"You saying I've got an accent?"

"Something like that," Daniel laughed. Then he crouched down beside the little girl and took one of her hands in his. Gently, he spread the fingers and placed her palm on the body of Jack's guitar.

"Play a few chords, Jack."

Obligingly, O'Neill strummed the strings, right hand shifting from chord pattern to pattern.

Manda's mouth dropped open in surprise. She jerked her hand away and turned to Daniel, signing in rapid excitement.

He laughed and waved his hands. "Slower, sweetheart! I can't keep up..."

They exchanged a couple more bits of conversation, then he indicated that she should replace her hand on the wooden body of the guitar. He slid to the floor on Jack's other side, easily within sight of the little girl.

"Jack, play 'Trombone Charlie,' okay? Make it nice and rhythmic." He smiled across at Manda, flicked his fingers in Jack's direction, then signed and spoke, "Trombone Charlie."

Jack stroked the little girl's head with his right hand, then transferred the hand to his guitar's fret-board and began to play.

Sam leaned back against Janet's knees and let the charming music soothe her brain. The slow, strong rhythm of the old ragtime song enticed the spirit--a bit lazy, comfortable and visceral.

After a few moments of introduction, the colonel's rough, earthy voice eased into the lyrics. Daniel's hands, occasionally 'stuttering,' sometimes obviously improvising, but generally confident, mirrored the rhythm of the words.

"I know a man who blows a horn...He comes from way down south.You never heard such blowin' since you been born,Like when that trambone's in his mouth..."

It was a wonderful, warm song. All about amazing talent that didn't quite fit the normal mode.

"Oh, Charlie, play that thing;I mean that slide trambone.Make it talk; make it singCharlie, where did you get that tone?"

Manda's wide eyes were glued on Daniel's fingers; both of her hands now splayed on the wood of O'Neill's instrument. She giggled at Daniel blowing through his cupped hands, laughed outright at his improvisation of a trombone. And she bounced and tapped her feet to match the rhythm of the guitar, rocking slightly in utter delight.

"Oh, Charlie, play that thing...I mean that sli-ide tra-am-boooone!"

As the music faded and the whoops and claps of approval swept the room, Manda leaped to her feet and launched herself at Daniel, hugging him exuberantly. Jack barely got his instrument out of range before he was treated to the same ecstatic embrace. Then she crawled over Ian and Sam to her mother, hands flying.

Cyn was laughing with her, shaking her head in bemusement. As her daughter climbed into her lap, still 'chattering' as fast as her hands could move, Cyn looked up and searched for Daniel's eyes, tears standing in her own. As she wrapped her arms around Manda's thin, vibrating body, she mouthed, "Thank you!"

He returned her smile, then, handing Sergeant Streager's stool back to the big man, sank back into his small space. He looked up briefly to grin at O'Neill.

"Nicely done, Danny," the colonel said softly. "Nicely done."

'Of course,' Sam thought, 'Now she's *really* going to want to play that guitar.' She twisted her head around to watch Cyn and Manda excitedly 'discussing' the music, and smiled ruefully. Oh, boy, Cyn.

* * *

Sam patted the thighs of the men on either side of her, then hauled herself to her feet. Too many beers and bottles of water had an inevitable outcome. Both of them leapt to their feet, solicitously escorting her out from behind the table. By the time she finally reached the hallway, she was laughing. For what seemed like the hundredth time during this long, bizarre and delightful day.

Finished with her necessary business, she wandered into the kitchen and inspected the sandwich materials spread out on the counter.

"Hey"

She looked up into Cyn's tentatively smiling face.

"Hey, yourself. Hi Manda!"

The little girl was still bouncing with excitement. Her hands fluttered exuberantly.

Cyn laughed and stroked her daughter's hair. "She's telling you all about the music. I'm going to have a *really* tough time being practical about those lessons."

Sam grinned down at the child, nodding in agreement. "That was pretty wonderful, wasn't it?"

Manda's head bobbed eagerly as her hands continued to sign.

"She's... well, she's pretty impressed with her Uncle Daniel." Cyn was smiling indulgently.

Sam laughed. "So am I! I've known him for five years now, and he still astounds me."

"You know him pretty well, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah. Love him dearly."

"Sam, would you... that is, I'd like... Do you suppose we could get together for coffee some time?"

"What, to exchange Daniel-gossip?"

Cyn gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "Among other things. I don't know how much Daniel's talked to you about me..."

"Not very much, except that he liked you a lot. Oh, and that he was completely smitten with your daughter."

Cyn smiled, pleased. "That's really good to hear. I'm sort of trying to... I guess, to rebuild some things in my life. Or maybe to build some things that were never there before. It's kind of scary. Daniel's helped me a lot. I'd really like to know more about him. As I told you, most of my family is frankly just horrid. Daniel," she laughed, "really opened my eyes."

"So I gathered," Sam grinned.

"Oh, yes. You have no idea." She tilted her head back, eyes distant. "A cleansing wind." She shook herself. "Anyway, I *would* like to know more about him, but I... I'd like to know you, too. And Janet. You're not either one of you at all like the women I've always been around. I need to learn to be your kind of woman, I think."

Sam's brows rose. "I... I don't quite know what to say to that. I'm not sure I'm exactly a good role model."

Cyn smiled. "I don't want a role model. I just want someone real. A touchstone, I guess."

Sam tilted her head, teeth worrying her lower lip. Then she grinned.

"Well, Cyn... I think the three of us should find a good coffee shop and get better acquainted."

Cyn smiled. "I'd love that."

"Just what's going on out here?" The voice startled them.

"Deep plots and machinations, Sir."

O'Neill cocked an eyebrow at her. "Machinations? Do I need to start checking my desk chair before I sit down, Major Carter?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, smiling smugly. "Never hurts, Colonel. Just could never hurt."

"Ha!" He mock-growled at her, then turned to grasp Cyn's hand. "And how are you getting along, Cyn? Not believing the stories the Major here's telling you, are you?"

She shook her head, laughing. "Having a lovely time, Jack."

He crouched down to sweep Manda into his arms, kissing her giggling face several times. "How's my music partner?"

She kissed him back, then clasped her hands around his neck. He lifted her in his arms, turning back to her mother.

"Thanks so much for that, Jack. A musical party isn't exactly designed for her."

"Hey, it was Daniel's idea. And now we know how to make sure she's enjoying herself. Maybe we should let her play Teal'c's... whatever it is. That should give her a thrill!"

Sam laughed. "She'd probably love it. But Cyn might never forgive you if she decides she wants one of her very own."

"Hmm. Good catch, Carter. No drums. Did anyone bring a triangle?"

Cyn was chuckling. "Oh, God. No *percussion*, please." She shook her head. "Oh, by the way, Jack. A message from Jimmy. He just got his notification... he goes to the Academy in the fall. He's very grateful for your recommendation to the Senator." She drew a deep breath. "Me, too. That's two of us... three, counting Manda... who've escaped from that poisonous family."

Jack looked at her for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Um... I don't suppose Ronald has..."

She shook her head, eyes dropping. "No. Just the two of us and Jimmy. I'm still hoping, but it won't matter. I'm out of there, and I'm not going back. Just... trying to find my way. I'm not used to it."

"You know you can come to us for anything you need, don't you?"

She lifted her head, then reached out to touch his shoulder. "I do. I hope I'm not going to end up asking for it, but I know the help is there if I need it. You'll never know how grateful I am."

Still holding Manda in one arm, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "You'll do fine, Cyn. You'll do great. Just don't let Sam, here, corrupt you."

Sam sputtered in outrage. "As if! We're going to kidnap Janet, go to lunch somewhere, and tell each other scurrilous stories about you and Daniel."

He was shaking his head as he released Manda from his hold. "See... corrupting. She's gonna lead you right into the soup, Cyn. Just wait."

Saluting jauntily, he grabbed a beer and meandered across the living room, stepping over (and sometimes intentionally 'kicking') bodies along the way. He disappeared through the door to the deck.

Sam quirked an eyebrow at Cyn. "Jimmy?"

Cyn smiled fondly after the colonel. "My cousin. My other cousin. Jack helped him get accepted to the Air Force Academy."

"Wow!"

"Surprised me, I'll tell you," Cyn laughed. "Who knew the family goof-off had that kind of stuff? I'd never paid much attention to him until Daniel, and Jack, obviously, gave him a way out as well." She turned back toward Sam. "So you'll have to excuse the three of us if we keep the pedestal we've constructed for Daniel and Jack well-polished for a few years. I'm sure they've got faults, but right now they're at the top of our list."

Sam slipped one arm around the other woman and gave her a quick hug. "I don't think you have to worry about them falling off any time soon. Though there are few... quirks... we'd probably better discuss."

Laughing, they grabbed a bowl of chips and headed back toward their couch refuge.

* * *

Jack leaned against the deck railing, enjoying the chill twilight breeze. He grinned to himself. Must be all the hot air being vented in there; the house was pretty warm. And noisy. Of course, that was pretty much the point, but he'd needed a moment to cool his head.

He glanced over his shoulder as the sound of the glass door sliding open intruded on his solitude. Carter stuck her head through the open space, mischievous delight twitching at her features. Her hand followed, beckoning.

Brows arching, he stepped to the door. As he approached the opening, strange percussive sounds became evident, booming and chattering.

Carter shushed him before the exclamation could emerge, then moved aside so he could get a good look.

Teal'c of course. /Karushna/ booming and moaning as he patted and stroked the taut drumhead with his fingers and palm. And Beth, playing an amazingly varied set of noises on her bodhran, double-clubbed stick flying, striking the center, the rim, the center again.

But they weren't alone. Sitting happily on the floor, surrounded by Teal'c and Beth, was Louis Feretti. And snuggled between the knees of his crossed legs was an obviously aged pair of bongo drums.

It was a bizarre and delightful performance. Each of them took a turn with the lead, improvising outrageously complicated rhythmic patterns. The dry, hollow patter of the bongos formed a charming counterbalance for the more mellow bodhran-style drums. And of course, the /karushna/ rattled the bones, especially when Teal'c applied the heel of his open palm to the center of the head. Jack felt the vibration wrack his entire body. That was definitely a heavy-duty musical instrument.

Beth and Feretti coordinated a final flourish, Teal'c boomed a finishing beat, and the drummers were greeted with vigorous applause, peppered by a few catcalls.

Jack contributed his part, whistling shrill approval. "Hey, Feretti! Where'd you find those fossils!"

"Big words from a guy who keeps his guitar locked in a closet, Colonel!"

Jack laughed with him, then shook his head. "That was utterly strange and wonderful, my friends. Whew!"

Teal'c smiled graciously, nodding to each of his percussive partners. "Indeed. A most pleasurable ensemble. And I would be very interested in examining your drums, Major Feretti. They are of a style I have not encountered."

"Any time, big fella. Maybe we can have a few jam sessions."

Teal'c's brows rose, obvious puzzlement sweeping over his features.

"Ah... it's an expression, Teal'c. I'll explain later, okay?"

The Jaffa nodded gravely in O'Neill's direction, then turned back to his fellow drummers.

Chuckling, Jack retreated out to his railing. Carter drifted behind him, rubbing her arms against the spring chill.

"That was something. Worth the whole party..."

He laughed, leaning on the railing. "You got that right. We'd better make sure Beth doesn't spend too much time here, or we're going to have to explain another interplanetary marriage."

She chuckled, staring out across the yard. "They did hit it off, didn't they." She shook her head in disbelief. "Bongos. And Feretti. Somehow, that strikes me as a true match. Bongos, or maybe a banjo."

He glanced across at her, lips curved into a secretive, closed-mouth smile. "I used to play the banjo."

"No!" She shouted with laughter, twisting to look into his face. "Please don't tell me that, Sir. Some things just can't be assimilated."

His teeth flashed in the dim light. "I'll keep that in mind, next time you start spouting that techno-babble crap you're so fond of. Between my banjo and Daniel's bagpipes, we should be able to keep you in line."

She was still quaking with laughter when the patio door opened again, and Ian stepped out into the crisp air of early evening.

"Private party, mates?"

"Nope." Jack reached out to slap him lightly on the shoulder. "Just discussing... high-tech control mechanisms."

Carter's laughter bubbled up again. She turned and slid down to sit with her back against the railing, eyes crinkled shut and hands clamped over her mouth.

Ian's eyebrows arched as he stared down at her. He looked up at Jack, mouth quirking into a lop-sided grin. "This some sort of... Air Force thing? Or just more inexplicable Yank behavior?"

Jack shrugged. "Just... Carter. She's an original."

Ian chuckled, then sobered. He gazed at Jack for a moment, then crooked his finger. "Long as you're catchin' your breath, I've got something for you. Kinda private."

"Private?" Jack cocked his head. "Okay. I think it's relatively safe to leave the major here."

Ian nodded, smiling brightly, and pulled the door open again. Jack followed him into the warmth of the house and toward the steps up to the bedrooms. As they slipped around the edge of the crowded room, he caught Daniel's eye and jerked his head toward the patio.

"Carter's out there having hysterics. You might check in a few minutes, make sure she hasn't swallowed her tongue or something."

Daniel's astonished face was his last impression as Ian tugged him into the guest bedroom.

The younger man stared at him for a few moments, then his mouth curved in his engaging grin.

"I'd meant to give you one of these last December, but the opportunity never presented. Besides, the delay let me finish things up a bit, do some more work. But they definitely belong with you."

He reached down behind his suitcase and pulled out a reinforced artist's portfolio. Jack's gut tightened. He'd been checking up on Ian; he knew he was renowned for more than playing a fiddle.

Ian gently unzipped the case, then drew out two brown paper-wrapped objects and handed them to Jack.

Knees suddenly weak, Jack sank down onto the edge of the bed, holding the stiff rectangular objects with shaky reverence.

"Ian..."

"Just take a look, Jack."

Pulling in a deep breath, Jack carefully unwrapped the larger, heavier of the two packages.

"Oh, God." He couldn't have stopped the smile that spread over his face if there'd been a gun at his head. "Oh, yeah, Ian. This is fantastic!"

The framed painting depicted three young men swept up in the throes of musical labor. The slightly impressionistic style didn't allow for precise identification of facial features, but the bodies, the captured movement, and the delicate beauty of the guitar in the central, seated figure's hands made their identities obvious. The picture carried Jack right back to the magical evening when Daniel had found that last piece of his shattered past. It was a magnificent effort, capturing the joy and abandon of the musicians' absorption in their art.

"F'r God's sake, Ian... I can't take this! Believe it or not, I *know* the value of one of your paintings. This is..."

"Jack, the value of a piece of art is completely dependent upon the regard of the viewer. There's no one in the universe for whom that painting could have more value. I couldn't possibly ever sell it; so the only worth it has is what you give it. It's yours."

Jack shook his head in astonishment, touching the corner of the simple, elegant frame. "Then it's priceless."

Ian nodded sharply. "Good enough. Now the other one. The painting is for out there." He tilted his head toward the noisy living room. "This one is... just for you."

Placing the lovely painting gently against the pillows, Jack spread open the brown paper covering the second picture. His mouth slowly stretched into a fond, delighted smile.

"Oh, Danny. Wow." This frame's glass front protected a set of pencil drawings, five on the same page, all depicting the same subject--Daniel's face in its myriad expressions. The shy hesitance of that moment when Jason had flung the door open, the joy as he'd swept Beth into his arms, the mischievous smile as he'd teased Ian, the transported ecstasy as he'd played his beloved guitar for the first time in five years. And in the center, curled up between Jack's feet, nestled against the front of the soft armchair, looking up over his shoulder with an expression of such love that Jack's throat tightened at the memory.

"Oh, boy. Not a chance I'm going to offer to give this one back to you, Ian."

"Better not, Jackie me lad. Those are all for you."

Jack gazed at the drawings for several long moments, then drew a deep breath. "I, uh... I'd better put these some place safe." Fleetingly, he met Ian's green eyes, seeing gentle recognition and happiness at his pleasure.

Okay. Time to lower the level here. "Y... you guys gonna play again tonight?"

Ian grinned in perfect understanding. "Oh, you can count on it. Can already feel my fingers getting itchy."

He winked at Jack. "Why don't you take those little darlin's to your room. We'll wait for you to come back before we start in again, right?"

Jack nodded, throat too tight for speech. Carefully, he tucked the paper back around the two pictures, then headed out the room's door.

Ian grasped his shoulder as he went past. "You're still taking good care of him." It wasn't a question.

Jack nodded without looking back. "Doing my best. Doin' my damned best."

* * *

Jack set the two frames upright, leaning them against the mirror that topped the chest of drawers in his bedroom. He sat down on the bed and gazed at them happily as he wrestled with the urge to weep with delight.

Finally sure that he had himself back under control, he stood and slipped out the door, closing it securely behind him. He headed back toward the party, sternly suppressing the bubble of eagerness that threatened to escape as he thought about sharing his treasures with Daniel later. After everyone went home. Oh, yeah.

'Down boy,' he thought in amusement. 'Musical fun first; Danny fun later.'

He stepped back into the living room to find his 2IC under siege. She was seated nervously on the end of the coffee table, face chalk-white. Daniel was facing her, sitting on the small stool that seemed to be doing such excellent service tonight, fiddling with one of his new guitars. Jason and Ian were giving him grief over the instrument, laughing and teasing. And, incidentally, preventing Carter from escaping from her perch by standing on either side.

"'Ere, Jack! This your influence?" Ian called.

Jack moved back to sink into his miraculously still unoccupied chair, shaking his head. "Don't think so."

Jason prodded Daniel's shoulder. "Never thought I'd see it. Our little purist. Playing an *electric* guitar!"

Daniel just grinned up at them, continuing to run his fingers over the strings, producing a haunting, liquid stream of notes. The amplifier sat by Daniel's knee, obviously turned down so the instrument's sound was comfortably low.

"They all make music."

"Uh, so, what's in the other cases, old son?"

"You'll find out. Some day," Daniel laughed softly. "Now go away. Sam's going to sing. Jason, you could help."

"D...daniel. I... Really, I..." Carter was shaking.

"You'll be fine, Sam. Just fine. How many times have we done this?"

"B... but that s...sounds different. Not like..."

"I can use the other guitar if you want, but just relax and listen. It's just the same, only... smoother. Ghostier."

She licked her lips and watched his fingers as if she were tranced, mesmerized by the quick movements.

Jack shook his head. This was a woman who'd carved herself a secure, respected niche in the very male universe of the front-line military, a woman who could scream in a Goa'uld's face or dive off a cliff without a backward glance. And singing for her friends was reducing her to a quivering puddle of nerves.

"Daniel..." she whispered. "I can't."

Daniel leaned closer, voice soft and comforting. "Sure you can. Nobody here but friends. And just forget *them*; nobody here but us. Just sing to me. You've sung this to me dozens and dozens of times. Just sing to me..."

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. Slowly she released the air from her lungs, then opened her eyes and locked her gaze on Daniel's face.

His smile was gentle and affectionate. He nodded, and the strains from the guitar assumed a purposeful shape, still fluid and smooth, producing a spooky, slithery mood.

Carter kept her gaze fixed on his face, body swaying slightly as she surrendered to the music. Then she sang.

"In the dark of moon, there is no light... I'm free.I have no love to blind my eyes for me.Dark of moon's the time for flying;Far below the world is lying unaware...And my soul is crying... Vampire."

Jack felt his jaw drop in complete astonishment. Her husky, breathy voice played with the erotic, subtly taunting melodic lines. The guitar's liquid music created an intimate duet with her voice, supporting the occasional vocal shortcomings, enhancing the ethereal spell woven by the remarkable song. Jason played an unobtrusive bass line under the tender wail of the electric instrument.

"... but soon you'll know the vampire.And it won't be long.Flying... flying."

Jack started as he suddenly realized that Daniel was singing wordless harmony, using his voice like an additional instrument. And he could feel the tug... flying, indeed. For the first time, he really understood why so many found the temptation of the vampire myth so enticing.

"Life's not life if you must lose it;Death's not death if you refuse it.So who could blame you, if you chose... The vampire.Forever young... forever young.Forever young."

Inevitably, the enchantment had to fade. They all sat motionless as the haunting music dispersed.

"Oh. My. God." Janet's voice was stunned. "Oh my God, Sam. Where did that come from?"

Sam jerked her eyes away from Daniel, gaping at Janet. "I did it." Her voice was a whisper. "Holy Hannah. I did it." She jumped up and pumped her fist. "Yes!"

Daniel laughed up at her. "Told you."

She leaned across the guitar and kissed him vigorously on the cheek.

"You're a wizard, Doctor Jackson."

His smile turned sneaky. "So... we can start working on your party piece for Jack's birthday on Monday, right?"

Her face drained again. "Uh... we can talk about it. In a week or so. Maybe."

His head was shaking back and forth. "Monday, Sam. Seize the moment, right?"

Her own head shaking, Sam slid back down beside Janet on the couch. "I seized it. I'm now officially setting it free."

* * *

Sam could still feel the exhilarated tension vibrating in the core of her body. She wriggled into the tight place between Janet and Cyn, energy preventing her from settling.

Janet was laughing and poking her with a sharp elbow. "Sam! Relax. You're going to tip us all over."

Giggling, Sam threw her head back against the cushion of the couch. "God, Janet! I never understood..."

Janet slid her arm around her friend's shoulders. "Oh, Sam. Some day I'll tell you about my college years. No matter how many times you do that, you never lose the thrill. And I'm *so* impressed! Where did that voice come from?"

"Damned if I know. I've always known I couldn't sing. It's magic, I think. Daniel's magic."

Their shared laughter was interrupted by the reassembling of the trio who'd begun the evening. Daniel had pulled his tall stool back into the middle of the room, and was checking the tuning on his guitar. Ian and Jason were also tuning as they chatted with a couple of the guests. Then Ian stepped into the middle of the room.

"Hey, all. Ready for some more fiddling?"

The enthusiastic response could have left him in no doubt. He grinned and saluted them with his bow, then cast his gaze around the room.

"Joan, love. Come join us, will you? And MaBeth? Anyone else want to play?"

Several voices replied in the positive. Ian grinned at them.

"Right, then. Here's the deal. We're gonna do a pretty straightforward fiddle tune, starting out in the key of D minor. Three sections--A, B, and C. Tonic, dominant, bridge. You all got that? Daniel, you call the changes soon as you pick up on them; you other guitarists, keep your ears peeled."

He waited until he'd gotten nods from the various musicians. There were a few puzzled faces.

"Don't worry, mates. Just listen for Daniel, and you'll be fine. Right! Ready? Only one more thing. When you play with us, there's just one rule to remember..."

Silence stretched for several seconds, then Daniel and Jason recited in unison, "Ian's in charge!"

"Betcher arse he is!" Ian laughed. "All right, here we go... Here's the 'A' section."

For a few second, the only sound was Ian's tapping foot, then he started with a driving, rather eerie little melody, playing solo.

"And again," as Jason and Daniel, eyes locked on Ian's hands, joined with open chords.

"Once more," and Joan began to mimic Ian's tune, fumbling a bit but quickly catching on. The two guitars' contributions gained complexity.

As this third repetition of the 'A' section began, Sam became aware of Daniel's soft voice, calling, "D-minor," "G," D-minor," "A," "A7." As he called the chords, the other guitarists began to strum softly beneath the driving fiddles.

A fourth repetition, then Ian called, "'B' section, in the dominant..." He transitioned to a new melody, Jason and Daniel easily following into the new key, supporting the changing harmonies. Daniel continued to call chords. "A," "E," "D," and "E7." By the end of the repetition, all of the musicians were following pretty comfortably.

"And let's do 'A' again..." Ian led them back to the original melody, now controlling a confident, rollicking group.

"And here's 'C,' a transition..." The new section was short and uneasy in mood. Again the musicians fumbled the first time through, then settled more comfortably in the repeat.

"Right!" Ian called over the final bars. "Twice through each again, just for sure..."

They played each of the sections twice, grinning at each other, getting adventurous and improvising.

"Terrific! Everybody got it?" Ian's energetic fiddling never faltered as he surveyed his orchestra. "Right! You're on your own, mates. Just one more thing. This one's a runner!"

Sounds of confusion drifted above the music, then Jason's teasing voice called, "It accelerates!"

Sam joined the shouts of delighted laughter as the impromptu group found themselves playing those three sections over and over, faster and faster. After driving them through two rounds of the sections, Ian called, "Okay, lads and lasses... Give it to Daniel for eight!"

As they rounded into the next repetition, the fiddles dropped out, leaving Daniel's treble guitar to carry the lead through the section. Bright, intricate improvisations around the melody sent shivers of delight up Sam's spine. She knew she was once again hugging her knees and rocking, but there was no other way to control the exhilaration.

The fiddles joined again, presumably after the eight bars handed to Daniel. Ian's voice again, "And eight for lovely Joan!"

He dropped out with a bow and flourish, allowing the young woman to carry the lead alone. Her face was flushed with excitement, fingers flying over the neck of the fiddle, body bobbing with the strong rhythm.

"Yes," Ian shouted exuberantly as he rejoined her. "And let's take it out!"

Two flying repetitions of that unsettling transition section, an extended, rousing cadence, and, following Ian's eloquent body language, the group wound up with a relatively coordinated flourish.

Sam joined with the rest of the guests, screaming and shouting with approval.

Ian saluted the entire room. "Oh, that was truly lovely, my friends. Truly lovely."

Body bent over his scuffed old guitar as he fought against the laughter that shook him, the colonel gasped, "Holy shit, Ian. What a ride!"

Ian winked at him. "That's a terrific bit for this sort of thing. Just the same tunes over and over--but the acceleration makes it fun. You folks did a bang-up job."

The chatter slowly died as various musicians began to demand another tune. Ian laughed, thought a moment, then leaned toward Daniel and Jason and suggested something that sounded like a bunch of grunts and throat clearings. The other two nodded, and Ian turned to Joan. He played a short line for her, and she nodded, indicating that she knew the tune.

Satisfied, Ian turned back to his orchestra. "Right, then, mates. Here's another one. In D, simple rondo style. Listen to Daniel for the chords. And this one stays the same tempo all the way through."

He winked at the taunts and expressions of relief. He lifted his bow, but paused as a blushing Streager waved his hand.

"Uh... Ian, what's 'rondo'?"

Sam scanned the room, and realized that very few of the musicians were meeting the fiddler's eyes. Ian scowled at the group. "Now, how many of you needed to ask that question? Thought you military types were meant to be *tough*. Too chicken to ask a little question."

A lot of guiltily ducked heads answered him. Shaking his head in mock sadness, he sighed. Then, speaking directly to Sergeant Streager, he explained, "A rondo has a main theme that alternates with a variety of contrasting themes. Like, 'A-B-A-C-A-D-A.' Because we're fiddling," he grinned, " we'll repeat each of them so everybody gets a chance to catch on. Got it?"

Streager grinned and nodded.

"Right, then... here we go!" And off they went.

* * *

Jack was bouncing a giggling Manda on his knee. Now that they'd clued into a way to include her, she'd been the rounds. Ian had hoisted her up to sit on Daniel's stool so she could 'listen' to his fiddle, though he'd had a hard time standing still enough so she could keep a hand on the small instrument. Daniel had wrapped his arms and guitar around her as she sat on his lap. She'd clearly been thrilled by the tight vibrations the guitar sent shivering through her body. She'd sat beside Beth through several tunes, totally delighted by the bodhran. And fifteen minutes with Teal'c and the /karushna/ had left her wide eyed and a bit stunned. Jack had set his own guitar aside and invited her into his lap to recover from the excitement.

As the musicians finished yet another round, Beth lowered her drum and grinned mischievously at Daniel.

"Angel, I saw the fiddle case. Are you going to play for us?

"Ah... no..." Daniel stammered.

Jack stilled Manda for a moment, laughing at his partner. "Daniel? Do you play the fiddle?"

"Hardly. Barely," he mumbled, face setting into stubborn resistance.

Ian frowned, shaking his head as he scolded, "Well, you weren't half bad last time I gave you a lesson. And I assume you've been practicing, since you went to the trouble of getting yourself an instrument."

Still stubbornly shaking his head, Daniel repeated, "No."

"Daniel... Angel... come on. You play very nicely. Please?"

Jack's jaw dropped. They'd told him, but he hadn't really believed. Beth had moved up close to Daniel's stool, hand reaching up to stroke his short hair. Her voice was gentle and wheedling, lips curved in a loving smile

And it was working. Daniel had screwed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth in determination, but she was getting to him.

"Please, Angel. It might be *months* before we see you again. Just one tune. Please?"

Daniel twisted his head around to meet her beseeching eyes, mouth now twitching into a scolding grimace.

"You just had to, didn't you? Beth, there's some very unpleasant place waiting somewhere for con artists like you."

She grinned and hugged him, carefully avoiding the guitar.

"You'll play."

"Just one. I'll play."

Jack set Manda gently on her feet, then stepped around the chair to reach Daniel's little row of cases. As he stretched across to hand the violin case to Daniel, Carter piped up from her protected position in the middle of the couch.

"So, Daniel. Just when did you learn to play the fiddle."

He scowled at her. "I didn't."

Beth's teasing laugh rang through the room. "Oh, Angel. I'll tell, Sam. He resisted for at least a month. But finally, he just had to ask. If something makes music, Daniel wants to play with it. So he eventually asked Ian to teach him about the fiddle. Ian handed over his backup instrument, and happily obliged. Daniel was getting along pretty well by the time we all split up."

Daniel huffed as he tuned the obviously fairly new fiddle. "Pretty well, hah! Compared to Ian and Joan, I'm a rank beginner. So you all might want to take a break outside. This is bound to be embarrassing."

Jack was fighting laughter at the disgruntled expression on his lover's face. "No way, Daniel. It's dark out there. We'll stay in here and suffer. And just think of the potential ammunition!"

Voices from around the room called out agreement. Someone began passing snacks around, just to "fortify everyone" for Daniel's performance.

"So, mate. What d'you want to play?" Ian had placed his fiddle into its case and accepted Daniel's guitar. He slid onto the stool Daniel had vacated.

Daniel's mouth pursed for a moment as he thought. "Well, the only thing I ever played half-way proficiently was "Taylor," so I guess that'll be it."

Beth clapped enthusiastically. "Oh, yes! I love that. It always makes me think of gypsies!"

Ian scowled playfully at his adopted mother. "Naughty, MaBeth. That's a good old Irish tune."

She shrugged. "I can't help it. It just sounds like gypsies!"

He hmphed and shook his head at her, then turned all of his attention toward his reluctant student. "So, then. Ready?"

Daniel, looking slightly less like he was being led to his execution, nodded and lifted the fiddle up under his chin.

The opening of the tune was powerful, with long, stretched notes broken by trills, quick grace notes, and short, jerky sequences. The tune was in a minor key, and was indeed very evocative of swirling scarves and dark, flashing eyes. Jack grinned. He could see Beth's point.

"'Ere, now! What's this?" Ian had cooperated, following Daniel's lead. But he was obviously not happy.

Flicking his gaze briefly away from his instrument to meet Beth's eyes, Daniel grinned smugly. "Gypsies," he murmured.

She trilled with laughter, shaking her finger at an apparently horrified Ian. "See! I told you!"

"Blasphemy!" he exclaimed, head wagging back and forth in sorrow. "What would the little people think?"

It was clear that Daniel's fiddling wasn't anywhere near Ian's class, but he was doing very well. And as he played, he relaxed a little, fingers loosening to tease out the rapid little sequences of notes.

Ian and Jason followed him through the sections of the tune, letting him set the pace and sport with the gypsy rhythm he'd established. As they approached the repetition, Daniel caught their eyes and, as the final measures sounded, nodded his head sharply several times, establishing a new tempo.

Ian's mouth stretched into his irrepressible grin as the second run-through began. The faster tempo and altered melodic style was obviously much more to his liking. And much more Irish. The listeners hooted and began to clap along with the livelier mood as the musicians swept through the song a second time. Ian played the guitar with panache, supporting Daniel's relatively simple melodic line with harmonies and ornamentation.

As they neared the end of the second time through, Ian's foot stretched out and prodded Jason's thigh. The guitarist lifted an eyebrow and nodded. Again, the recapitulation approached. Jason's attention was focused on Ian, and as they wrapped up the final section, Ian began to bob his head quickly.

"Whoa!" Daniel exclaimed, finding himself abruptly playing at a much faster tempo. Panic swept over his face.

"Ah, Daniel. You've gotta push yourself, lad!" Ian laughed, refusing to yield.

Beth leaned forward, face glowing with delight. "Just concentrate, Angel. Concentrate."

And he did. Daniel's face tightened and closed off, assuming that almost terrifying expression of total focus. His eyes were fixed on his fingers, lower lip clamped between his teeth.

Jack shook his head in wonder as he watched. Incredible. Daniel just seemed to tune out everything else in the room, bringing all of his formidable intellect to bear on a single problem--getting his fingers to drive out that melody.

And it worked. He kept up, though even Jack could tell that he'd simplified the tune in order to get through it. But with the help of the two guitars, it was still wonderful.

As the tune spun to a riotous finish, Jack joined the shouting and applause, laughing as Daniel threatened to strangle Ian.

God, was he ever going to discover Daniel's limits?

* * *

Sam realized she'd soon permanently resemble a pretzel. Her legs were crossed, knees up under her chin, tightly cramped against the front of the couch, pressing her back against the hard edge of the coffee table. But she was having far too much fun to worry about it.

She'd joined with Janet and Cyn, teasing tales of Daniel's college years out of Beth. Of course, Beth was apparently completely happy with the interrogation. She'd kept Daniel's face flaming with tale after tale of his bashful, hapless meander through the maze of graduate school. The colonel had lounged back in his chair, gleefully soaking up the endearing tales, undoubtedly storing them away in the corner of his brain where he kept his 'keeping Daniel under control' information.

Beth patted Cyn's hand affectionately. "Such a shame you never knew him when you were both younger, my dear. You would have been very good for each other."

Cyn shook her head ruefully. "I'm sure I would have benefited tremendously. Not so sure about Daniel." She smiled down at her cousin. "Sounds like you weren't so tough back then. I... I'd hate for Grandfather to have gotten his hooks into you."

Daniel reached across Beth's lap to grip her hand. "I'd have had Beth, Jason and Ian. He wouldn't have stood a chance." His smile broadened into a wicked little grin. "I'm tempted to invite the old bastard over while Beth is still here. She'd eat him alive."

Looking stern, Beth shook herself. "Oh, I would. Nasty old goat. I'd love to give him a few parenting lessons."

"Oh, God." Jason loomed over the table. "Who are you threatening now, Ma?"

Daniel twisted his head around to look up at his friend. "Somebody who *really* deserves it. Trust me."

Jason laughed, then reached a hand toward Daniel. "C'mon, ArchaeoBoy. Ian's demanding your presence."

Eyebrows arching in query, Daniel tipped his head. "Demanding?"

"Yep. Something about Bach, I think."

"Bach?"

Jason grimaced in tolerant confusion. "The devotion of the lovely Joan seems to be fading slightly. He says he needs you. Right now."

Stiffly, Daniel straightened, then stepped over the low table. "Okay..."

The rest of them watched Daniel trail off after Jason.

"So, somebody wanna tell me how come all Ian has to do is say, 'Heel, Daniel!' and off he goes? Me, he argues with."

Sam grinned at him. "Maybe you need to learn to play the fiddle."

They all laughed at the look of panic that crossed O'Neill's face.

"Ah... I'll pass. Guess I'll just have to keep depending on physical domination."

Beth mock-glared at him. "I'm checking for bruises, Jack. You promised me."

His smile reflected pure affection. "No worry there, Beth. You can check all you want."

Sam touched Cyn's knee, catching the other woman's attention.

"So, Cyn... do you have any plans for..." she waved her hand vaguely, "... you know."

Cyn sighed a bit sadly. "Well, financially I'm really all right. My mother, bless her heart, left me a fairly comfortably sized trust. So Manda and I won't starve. But... Well, I'd really like to *do* something with myself. I've been such a... worthless person all my life..."

Beth shook her head gently. "Oh, no, dear. Not worthless. No worthless person could possibly raise such a delightful little girl. And you need to get that notion right out of your head, Cyn. Manda comes from you... if you convince her that you're worthless, then that means she is as well. And that's simply nonsense."

Janet was nodding. "I may have started with a child who was already half-grown, but I've noticed how much my attitude toward myself affects Cassie."

Cyn grimaced slightly. "I'm working on it. But... I'm afraid I really have no skills. I have a college degree, but it's years old, and in a subject that doesn't exactly support any kind of career. Or even a job. I suppose I could go back to school..."

"Or..." Beth cocked her head, gaze fixed searchingly on Cyn's face. "Or you could make use of what we already know you do well. Tell me, Cyn... you like children a lot, don't you?"

Surprised, Cyn nodded. "I used to take Manda to daily sessions at the School for the Deaf. I really enjoyed helping with the other children. Manda was so quick catching on that we always had time to play with the rest of the kids." Her face brightened with a reminiscent smile. "It was the best part of every week for me."

Beth nodded, examining the other woman speculatively. "I've got a little assignation planned in Colorado Springs while I'm here. I think I'm going to take you along with me, Cyn, dear."

"Assignation?"

"Well, I'm director of a private house for displaced and disadvantaged children in Los Angeles. And one of my long-time correspondents runs a similar facility here in Colorado Springs. We've never met, and I'm very excited about finally seeing her. I'm quite sure she'd be delighted to try out a new volunteer. And if it works out, then there might very well be a salaried position for a person like you. It's a career that will never make you rich, but your combination of independent means and real empathy with children who are facing challenges should make you a godsend. I'd be delighted to introduce you, and supply a recommendation."

Cyn was looking a bit stunned. "I... Oh, my God. That... I can't think of anything I'd rather do. You'd really be willing to... You've hardly met me!"

Beth slipped her arm around the other woman's shoulder, hugging her gently. "I know what I need to know, dear. Daniel thinks you're lovely, and your daughter is a delight. Those are among the best credentials I know."

Face glowing with happiness, Cyn twisted around to hug the older woman. "Oh, yes. Yes. I'd love to try this. I can't think of anything more fulfilling."

Beth patted her back, laughing softly. "There are going to be days when you'll doubt that, Cyn. Children can be little monsters. But I wouldn't trade my career for anything else in the world. You'll do wonderfully well."

"So you'll be staying here in Colorado Springs?" Sam asked.

"If this works out, I guess I will. In fact, whether it works out or not, I'm going to start looking for a place here right away! I'd love to live close to Daniel, and I'd love to get away from the rest of my family."

Sam and Janet exchanged a conspiratorial grin.

Janet leaned forward to look around Beth. "That would be terrific, Cyn."

"Yeah, we'd like to get better acquainted, and three of us can do a much better job of ganging up on the guys." Sam rubbed her hands eagerly.

"And Cass can continue with her lessons." Janet gestured toward the pair of young girls sitting on the floor across the room, happily working out a communication system that both of them could understand.

Sam prodded Janet's knee. "So... Are you going to go with the guitar lessons?"

Janet laughed warmly. "Oh, I think so. I'll make sure Daniel comes along when we go guitar shopping. Otherwise we're liable to come home with something painted fluorescent green with neon lights running up and down the neck. Either that, or a screaming electric guitar with 'N'Sync' painted all over it."

Cyn echoed the laugh, then sobered. "Manda... she asked if she could learn to play as well. I don't... I hate to put limits on her but..."

"Ouch. That's a tough one."

"I hate to set her up for failure."

"Eve Chalom and her partner won a silver medal in Ice Dancing at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships in 1997." The soft voice sounded behind from behind Sam. Daniel stood beside the table, looking pensively down into his coffee cup. His eyes lifted to their faces. "She was hearing impaired. Evelyn Glennie is one of the most amazing professional percussionists of our day. She's also hearing impaired."

Cyn felt the corners of her mouth twitching upward. "Are you trying to tell me something, Daniel?"

He shrugged, stepping over the table to sink once more into his nook by the colonel's knee. "Just that I think you should let her try. I think guitar would be a good instrument for her. You essentially hug it against you while you play. You saw how much she got just by putting her hands on Jack's guitar, and by feeling my guitar against her tummy. You feel that all through your body when you actually play the instrument yourself. She may never be great, but that's not the point."

"Let her try?" Cyn bent over to stroke his cheek, then leaned forward to kiss him lightly. "You are such a wise man, Daniel Jackson. What a lucky day it was for us when you walked into that mausoleum we lived in."

His cheeks flushed as he laughed.

"So--I guess it's the six of us guitar shopping next weekend, right?" Janet slid her arm through Cyn's. "You wouldn't leave us to the mercies of those two young women, would you Daniel?"

* * *

Jack handed bowls of snacks to any hand extended in his direction. The hum of conversation and the soft sounds of various musical instruments and singing voices formed a warm background mutter. As the hour deepened, folks were getting mellow. A few had reluctantly packed up and taken their leaves, but the party still had considerable life.

"Anyone else? How about potables? Anyone need something to drink while I'm on my feet?"

He noted the waving hands, took orders, then headed back to the kitchen. Daniel met him with his arms full of many of the requested fluids. He carefully transferred his load over to Jack, then turned around for the remaining bottles and cans, sneaking a swift caress of Jack's unprotected ribs as he turned. Jack was grinning as he passed out the drinks.

Hosting duties dispensed, Jack sank back into his chair, his own beer chilling his fingers. Daniel, water bottle in hand, settled himself against Jack's knee, and Jack took the opportunity to sneak his own soft stroke over the other man's smooth cheek. His reward was a sparkling smile and a minute shift bringing Daniel's body closer to Jack's legs.

Movement from the hallway into the back of the house caught their attention.

"Uh... We... Um..." One of Janet's nurses--Clark?--was waving a hand, dragging a colleague into the middle of the floor with her.

Jack fished for the name, coming up dry. A soft voice from the floor supplied, "Joyce. And Sharon."

He smiled down at the imp who had somehow fallen from his shoulder. Trust Daniel.

"We've got a song. We... uh... Well, it's really for Doctor Jackson." Clark cast an apologetic glance toward Carter. "Sorry, Major."

Carter smiled at them, graciously conceding that a song for Daniel was admissible, though it was her fete.

The two women wrapped their arms around each other's waists and grinned down at Daniel.

"Before we begin, maybe we... uh..." Clark laughed. "Well, maybe we should apologize to you, Doctor Jackson. First."

Daniel was beginning to look a bit uneasy. The nursing duet exchanged a glance, then giggled.

"Okay. Could we have a G from someone? Maybe a G major chord?"

Siler played an elaborately embellished arpeggio.

"Thank you, Sergeant Siler," Joyce scolded. "A chord would have sufficed."

Clark tapped her on the arm and, having caught her eye, bounced her head, establishing a beat.

Simultaneously, they turned to Daniel, singing in a capella harmony.

"I like you 'cause you have such lovin' ways, hey, hey;I like you, 'cause you are so sweet, so neat, so cute, 'n everything...

"Oh, baby, I know why...Start lovin', and you smile...Start hummin'...Ah! Whoo! Those are big-a-blue *eyes*!"

The song was charming--silly, bouncy and flirtatious. And guaranteed to embarrass Daniel right down to the tips of his long, elegant toes. The two women were milking it for every nuance.

"Well, I must admit that it is true,I throw a fit when I see you,Baby, I love you 'cause you have such lovin' ways!"

The room erupted with shouts of approving hilarity. Jack, arms wrapped around his aching ribs, was contributing his shouts of laughter to the appreciation heaped on the two nurses' heads. The singers bowed, turned and bowed again, faces wreathed in grins. Then, expressions sobering, they turned to face their victim himself. Their eyes anxiously zeroed in on Daniel, curled at Jack's feet. His face was buried in his folded arms, propped on his knees. His head was shaking back and forth, and small, slightly hysterical moans wheezed out. Finally, he lifted his flaming face and looked up at them, eyes crinkled with laughter.

Jack reached out and ruffled his hair. "Oh, Daniel. You are *never* going to live this down!"

Daniel elbowed him in the thigh, then hauled himself to his feet, stepping over impeding bodies to award each of the singers with a gentle, chaste kiss. Their cheeks pinked as he wrapped an arm around each of them, giving them a little hug.

"Thank you. I think. That was... mortifying. But very nice."

They smiled fondly up at him, gave him return hugs, then slipped away into the back of the house, from whence giggles and shouts of congratulation emerged.

Daniel crept back to his nest between Jack and the couch, face still significantly pink. Sam leaned down across Janet's lap to hug him from behind.

"Thanks for being such a good sport." Jack barely heard the whispered words. Daniel nudged his head back against hers, rubbing affectionately.

"No problem. Just... once was enough, okay?"

Laughing, she rubbed her nose in his hair, then patted his shoulders as she sat up and wriggled back between Janet and Cyn.

"Doctor Jackson?"

Startled, Daniel turned.

"Um... Margo, isn't it? Margo Dean?"

The woman crouching across the coffee table from him nodded. "From Supply. You send your requisitions to me." Her voice was painfully harsh, the ugly scarring on her throat suggesting the reason.

Daniel nodded, brow wrinkling in empathy. "You're the one who..."

She ducked her head, shoulders hunching as she gave a jerky nod. Then she forced her shoulders back and her chin up, meeting his eyes.

Jack winced mentally. They all remembered the accident eight months earlier. The Supply clerk was lucky she'd lived through it. Out of her normal environment, checking on a confusing order, she'd been very much in the wrong place. The metal shards from the explosion had nearly sliced her throat right through.

"I... Doctor Jackson, would you..." She pushed a folded piece of paper across the surface of the table.

"Daniel," he admonished, picking up the paper and gently smoothing it open.

His brows rose as he examined it. He turned to her, admiration clear in his eyes. "Is this yours?"

She nodded, grimacing slightly.

He smiled, turning back to the page. "This is really good. You want me to...?"

"S...sing it," she whispered raggedly.

"What makes you think I can sing?"

"You can. Please."

He looked over her offering, which Jack could see was a rather battered page of music notation paper. After a few moments, he turned to Jason, sitting on the floor at the other end of the couch, and tilted his head in obvious invitation.

As Jason persuaded Ian to switch places with him, Jack stretched back to lift Daniel's guitar out of its case sitting on the table behind him, then passed it carefully to its owner.

Eyes fixed on the scuffed bit of music, Daniel began experimenting, playing around with a variety of picking patterns and riffs. Jason settled down and adjusted his tuning to match the sounds from Daniel's instrument, then sat and waited for Daniel to work things through.

Finally, Daniel looked over at his friend, smiling. "In D major; pretty standard chord sequence, verse four by five, chorus four by four with a deceptive cadence followed by a repeat of the last line, strong cadence. Three verses. We'll do it twice round, then a full round guitar break, final verse, chorus with repeat. Let me have the vamp and first round, then join me the second time through, and build slowly. And... gentle. It's very gentle."

Jason nodded, then sat motionless as Daniel closed his eyes and swayed slightly back and forth.

A final deep breath, and Daniel began to play. The introductory measures were indeed gentle... a sweet, swaying melodic pattern over a straightforward rocking base.

"Grandma's out in the garden,  
Soon as the hoe can break the sod.  
Out in the sun with a trusting god.  
In the circle of the seed,  
It's planting time, and time to weed."

Daniel's voice was a light baritone, untrained but absolutely true. Perfect for the tender warmth of the song.

"And she'd say, just work the topsoil,  
Don't dig too far down.  
Leave a little bit to faith  
And work the fertile ground."

Unobtrusively, Jason slid into the music, deeper tones fleshing out the fresh lightness of Daniel's accompaniment. Two verses, two choruses, and a guitar break, Daniel's long fingers coaxing the sweet melody from the strings of his lovely instrument.

"So stop your turning round and round,  
Don't sit and think your world apart.  
Some things you just see with your heart.  
Take a seed you want to grow,  
And place your hand upon the hoe.  
"And you'll say, just work the topsoil..."

Other voices joined them as they repeated the final chorus. Janet's rich voice, softened to match the mood of the song, Ian's bright tones, Streager's deep bass, Beth's warm contralto.

Jack shook his head in the following silence. "Well, that was... magic. Beautiful!"

Daniel was looking at Margo Dean, a concerned pucker between his brows. Her head was down, tears dropping onto folded hands.

"Margo?"

She tilted up to meet his gaze, eyes red-rimmed and damp. "Thank you. Thank you so much," she whispered. "I... I've never actually heard it."

"You... you're a singer, aren't you?"

She dropped her head again, hands tightening their grip on each other. Her voice was barely a whisper. "I... I was."

Daniel's face flinched in pain. He stared at her bowed head for a long moment, then lifted his gaze to scan the room.

"Beth?"

She nodded, dampness brightening her eyes.

"You brought... was that the alto recorder you had with you?"

Head tilting in puzzlement, she nodded again.

"Um... bring it over here, would you?" His attention was again on the grieving woman across the low table. Without taking his eyes off her, he reached to hand his guitar to Jack, confident his baby would be carefully received. Jack shook his head ruefully, dutifully taking the precious charge in both hands and standing up to place it gently back into its custom-fitted bed.

Beth hopped up and fetched her small instrument case. As she sank to the floor next to Margo Dean, Daniel carefully touched the younger woman's shoulder.

"Margo? Have you met Beth?"

Taking a deep breath, Dean obviously fought against the streaming tears. Finally satisfied with her self-control, she looked up toward the older woman. Beth smiled lovingly and reached out to stroke her cheek.

"What a lovely song, my dear. You have a wonderful talent."

Dean's cheeks gained a bit of color. The corners of her lips curved slightly upward. "Thank you. I... I used to write a lot. Before..." Her ruined voice trailed off as her chin quivered rebelliously.

"Beth, show her the recorder, will you?" Daniel leaned across the table, nudging the case toward Beth's hand.

Dimpling at Margo, Beth snapped open the box, pulling out a richly polished wooden wind instrument and adjusting the mouthpiece carefully.

"Margo, this is an alto recorder. You ever played one?" Daniel kept his voice low.

She shook her head silently, eyes fixed on Beth's busy hands. Despite herself, she seemed to be gaining interest in the instrument.

Recorder adjusted to her satisfaction, Beth glanced across at Daniel. He nodded, and she began to play. She started with a few running scales, adding a trill or a grace note here and there.

Jack exclaimed softly in appreciation. The sound of the recorder was rather deep and lush. Nothing like the shrill whistle he'd expected. And Margo Dean seemed to be as impressed as he was.

Daniel gently pushed the much-creased page of music across the table, rotating it so Beth could read it. She paused, then shifted smoothly from the scale exercises into a tender rendition of the melody they'd just heard Daniel sing. The recorder's rich voice delivered the tune smoothly, with delicate embellishments.

As she played, Daniel anxiously watched Margo's face. Her tiny smile was widening, spreading, lightening her face.

"It's a really organic instrument," he said softly. "I don't think there's anything that's as much like a voice as an alto recorder. And the initial learning curve is very shallow; you can be playing real music almost immediately. How far you take it after that... well, that's up to you."

Beth finished the chorus and lowered the instrument. "I'd love to show you, but it's really not a great idea to share mouthpieces." She laughed gently. "But I'd be delighted to help you find one for yourself. I'll be here for a few days. We could force Daniel to tell us where to shop for instruments in Colorado Springs."

A kind of awakening seemed to be blossoming on Margo's face.

"I... I think I'd like that."

Daniel leaned a little harder against Jack's legs. "Nothing can replace the singing, Margo. But... sometimes when you lose something, it lets you look around for other things. Things you might have missed. Not a replacement; a new direction."

Jack's throat tightened as he recognized the dual message in Daniel's words. His hand crept down to grip a shoulder.

She was smiling in earnest now. "Thank you. You're so right. And, Beth..." She turned to the woman. "I'd really love to go shopping with you."

Beth laughed and wrapped her arms around the other woman for a quick hug. "Oh, boy. And nothing says we have to stop after the music store, either." She winked as the group around them laughed.

Jason shook his head. "Hey, Jack. Maybe you should make a few calls. Warn the local merchants."

Beth's foot snapped across under the table, whapping him in the shin. His yelp was accompanied by general laughter.

* * *

Sadly, the hour advanced toward late and more of the guests began making reluctant sounds about going home. Jack did host duty, clapping shoulders, pressing excess chips and crackers into any hands he could get to take them, and generally saying good-bye.

The musicians lingered, eking out the last bits of the evening's festivities. They'd calmed down from the earlier high-energy romping, and were once again sitting in a rough circle on the floor, trading songs, improvising, and talking.

The first round of guests dispatched, Jack moved quietly behind the couch toward his chair, dropping a hand on Carter's shoulder as he passed. She looked up at him and smiled, tired and happy. She was sharing the sofa with Cyn, Cassie and Manda, currently curled up, napping with her head in her mother's lap. Jack slipped back into his chair and picked up his old guitar, easing his way into the gentle tune the group was passing around. He thought he'd played more this day than in the last ten years. Well, other than since Christmas.

He leaned back, hands stilling, and let his eyes drift shut, recalling hours spent in front of the fire, the two of them playing to each other, exchanging secrets and tricks. And a lot of other, more intimate things as well. Oh, yeah. He really loved the addition of music to their increasingly intertwined lives.

As he let his mind drift, the instruments fell silent, conversation from the floor humming a low undertone.

Siler's voice emerged from the background sound. "We really ought to finish with something appropriate. A nice goodbye song for a great party."

"Auld Lang Syne," Ian teased. Groans resounded.

Janet leaned back against the coffee table, grinning wickedly. "Happy Trails." More and louder groans.

"You know," Streager offered quietly, "There's a great song... can't remember the name. It was written by... uh... Eric Bogle, I think. Sort of got adopted as a requiem for Stan Rogers."

"I know that one," Daniel sounded a bit surprised. "I learned it a long time ago. Wait just a moment..."

He scrambled to his feet and carried his guitar to its case on the table behind Jack. When he returned to the circle, he was carrying a much larger instrument. He sank back to the floor, fingers already busily adjusting way too many strings.

"Hey!" Ian exclaimed. "Nice twelve-string!"

Daniel spared a smiling glance for his friend. "I haven't had the chance to play it much yet, but..." he settled himself and began to strum the oversized instrument. The sound was big and full, with a tingling chime. Nothing could be more unlike the delicate sound of his beloved Katsuo.

Satisfied that the instrument was in tune, he modulated into a slow, rocking rhythm, strumming through the song's chord sequence so the rest of them could catch the pattern.

"The name of the song is 'Safe in the Harbor.'"

"Yes!" Streager exclaimed, mandolin following in the big guitar's wake. "It's a great song!"

"Here's the chorus." Daniel spoke just loudly enough to be heard over the instruments.

"To every sailor comes time to drop anchor,  
Haul in the sail and make the lines fast.  
You deep water dreamer, your journey is over...  
You're safe in the harbor at last."

Streager's voice, then the others, joined Daniel's in a repetition of the chorus. Then...

"Have you stood by the ocean on a diamond-hard morningAnd felt the horizon stir deep in your soul?"

Jack felt his heart swell at the expansive optimism of the words. It was a paean to exploration, to the kind of eternal search that so characterized Daniel. When the chorus returned, his voice and guitar joined the rest.

"Some men are sailors, but most are just dreamers,  
Held fast to the anchors they forge in their minds.  
Who in their hearts know they'll never sail over deep water  
To search for a treasure they're afraid they won't find.

"So in sheltered harbors they cling to their anchors,  
Bank down the boilers and shut down the steam,  
And wait for the sailors to return with the treasures  
That fan the dull embers and fire up their dreams."

Dreamers and sailors. Well, he guessed he was a sailor. And Daniel? Born to be a dreamer; molded by extraordinary circumstance into a sailor of amazing ability.

The beautiful song eased into a third verse, Streager and Daniel singing now in harmony, the rest of them humming support, bodies rocking gently side to side with the irresistible metre. The final lines of the verse tightened Jack's throat, strangling his voice.

"So when storm clouds come sailing across your blue ocean,  
Hold fast to your dreaming for all that you're worth.  
For as long as there's dreamers, there will always be sailors  
Bringing back their bright treasures from the corners of earth."

Oh, yes. Definitely a song for his Daniel.

By now every one of them knew the chorus. They sang through the last repetition softly, tenderly. And as they finished, a mutual sigh breathed through the room.

"Shit," Siler said softly. "That was... wow."

"Yeah," Jack offered. "On that note..."

Slowly, the musicians began to stand, stow instruments and drift toward the door, talking, laughing softly.

Jack hauled himself to his feet and joined Daniel, Jason and Ian. A little subtle maneuvering, and he'd cut his archaeologist from the group and shepherded him out onto the now-deserted deck.

In the darkness, he cradled his lover's face between his palms, brushing his lips gently across a soft, willing mouth.

"Dreamer," he whispered, then slid his hands down around Daniel's body and deepened their kiss.

Daniel's own hands stroked up and down Jack's back. When their lips separated, he nestled his face into the top of Jack's shoulder. "So you're my sailor?"

Jack laughed softly, rubbing his cheek in soft hair. "I've got a treasure for you later tonight. If you're interested, that is."

Daniel lifted his head and kissed him again. "Oh, I just think I might be able to muster the interest."

Jack tightened his hold for a moment, then reluctantly stepped back. "We've still got a house full of guests. So hold that thought, Dreamer."

Their arms remained entwined until they slid the door open and stepped back into the warmth of the house.

* * *

The taxi driver waited patiently for his passengers to complete their extended good-byes. Beth's carefully wrapped bodhran and the case containing her recorder had been shut into the trunk, and Jason's big guitar case stretched the length of the cab's back seat. But Beth and Jason had yet to approach the car's doors.

Sam, Janet and Cyn took turns enthusiastically hugging Beth, exchanging hurried details for their lunch and shopping expedition. Beth had already added Margo Dean to the music store portion of their expedition, and Daniel had been sternly pressed into a promise to attend. Jason slipped away from Daniel, Ian and Jack long enough to slither in and share some of the free exchange of hugs.

Laughing, Sam patted his cheeks and gave him an enthusiastic kiss.

"Ah, beautiful Sam," he sighed dramatically. "Ma and I are here for another week. I really think you and I need to have a private birthday dinner."

She eyed him speculatively. "I might just manage to be persuaded. Of course, you'd have to coordinate with Ian."

"Damn that sneaky Brit! He always manages to beat me to the post. How about we invite the rest of these lovely ladies along, and drag Daniel and Jack with us. Not as private, but..."

"A lot more noisy," Janet supplied dryly.

Amid general laughter, they agreed, pulling the other three men into the discussion of choice of evening and restaurant.

At last, awash with final exchanges of kissed cheeks, hands and lips, Beth inserted herself into the front seat and Jason slid underneath his guitar case. Windows fluttering with waving hands, the taxi pulled away from the curb.

The rest of the group drifted back toward the door, where more guests were packing up instruments and jackets, happily discussing the astounding party and saying goodbyes.

Sam was waylaid repeatedly by departing friends. Streager and his tiny mandolin; Siler and his guitar, melancholy Margo, Janet's uncharacteristically still-giggling nurses--every one of them more multi-dimensional in her regard than they'd been twenty-four hours ago. Tomorrow they'd go back to being dedicated, highly competent military personnel. Today, they were people of unusual talent, and possessed of the amazing ability to create great festivity using a few simple instruments and their own high spirits.

Her face felt like it would never give up the grin it had been wearing for the last seven or eight hours.

She finally managed to get through the door into the front hall of the colonel's house, only to encounter Ian and Joan Tailor making their farewells.

She was still completely under his spell, despite the slight fall from grace when she'd discovered that he played classical violin as well as fiddle. Sam didn't understand why, but Joan had initially been rather upset. Apparently Daniel and Ian had convinced her that *she* should try to branch out a bit. Sam regretted missing that lesson.

Ian was beaming all of his considerable charm into the young Airman's face as he caressed her hand.

"I really loved playing with you Ian. I... You're as good as I ever expected. You're wonderful."

He chuckled down at her. "If you're expecting me to go all modest, you've got a long wait, love. Not a fault I can claim."

He tilted his head at her, grin softening to a fond smile. "I'm older than you, lass. Been around a long time. So I get to pontificate a bit. You're a fine young fiddler, Joan. And I've got two bits of advice for you, love. First, push yourself and that fiddle absolutely as far as you can. That instrument is played in many houses around this world, and every one of them has something to teach you. And the other..." he reached out and gripped her shoulder, winking mischievously "Play with Daniel. I'm guessing he'll be happy to oblige. So play with him every chance you get." The grin was back, lighting up his entire face. "He'll stretch you further than you can imagine yourself stretching. That's what he did for me. Listen to him when he makes suggestions. Try anything that strikes his fancy. As someone once said, you need to 'boldly go...' wherever."

She glanced doubtfully at Daniel, who was listening quietly. He smiled gently and nodded. "I'd love that, you know. To have a fiddler to play with all the time. Just ask..."

"Yes!" She hugged her instrument case. "That would be great."

"Just remember, lass. You've gotta do whatever he says. He says you have to make that thing sound like a didgeridoo, you do it, right?"

Daniel laughed. "Don't worry, Joan. No didgeridoos."

* * *

Sam helped Cyn gather the last of the plates and plastic flatwear, rousting Manda and Cassie to get the refuse from under their rear ends. They barely looked up, being completely absorbed with each other.

Shaking her head in wonder, Sam followed the other woman into the kitchen. "Is there somewhere for these?" Janet smiled and pulled her hands out of the soapy water to reach for Sam's armload of detritus.

"Most of that goes in the trash. If the colonel wants his plastic spoons washed, he can do it himself." Janet dumped it all into the trash can as Sam lifted the lid, stepping back so Cyn could toss her own collection. "So how did we end up doing this, someone want to tell me?" Janet propped her still dripping hands on her hips, scowling at Sam. "Somehow I thought someone made a rule about this."

Sam laughed, jamming the lid back on the can. "Daniel and the colonel are doing their share. And Ian's still around here somewhere. Lighten up."

Janet winked. "I don't see any of *their* lovely hands sunk in dishwater!"

Grinning at her friends, old and new, Sam leaned against the counter and reached for a dishtowel. "Well you have to admit it was one *hell* of a party! I, for one, am gonna owe the colonel for the next thirty years for this bash."

"But it was worth it," Janet said. "I learned things tonight I could never have imagined. Who figured Siler? And the colonel!"

"Not to mention some doctor I know," Sam teased as she dried the last of the delicate goblets.

Cyn gave her a rather tentative smile. "You were wonderful. What an amazing song."

Shaking her head, Sam tossed the damp towel over a cupboard door handle. "That was *all* Daniel, believe me. I don't know where he found that song, but he drilled me *hours* every day getting ready for my one shot at the spotlight."

Cyn's smile widened. "He was... pretty amazing, wasn't he?"

Sam and Janet exchanged a knowing glance. "Oh, yeah." Janet slid her arm around Cyn's waist. "The first thing you have to learn about Daniel is that he will *never* stop surprising you."

"He was certainly amazing the one time he visited my... our awful family. I don't think my grandfather's come close to recovering yet. I knew that night where the *real* quality in my family was. And tonight... with Manda..."

Janet tugged her the short distance to the living room doorway. Sam moved up behind them and leaned against the doorjamb, easily looking over Janet's shoulder. The three women stood watching the young girls entertain each other, smiling and chuckling as Manda tried hard to teach Cassie to sign, then collapsed in a laughing heap as the older girl diverted her fingers' practice to tickle her young teacher.

Cyn's hand tightened around Janet's forearm. "That's a wonderful girl, Janet."

Janet's smile radiated pride. "So's Manda. A real sweetheart. I wish I could take all of the credit for Cass, but she's got at least four additional parents. Sometimes I think she'd hardly notice if I vanished."

Cyn's eyes widened, and she turned to stare at Janet. "You are joking, aren't you?"

Janet laughed. "Oh, yes. Though I have had a lot of help with her. Especially from Sam." She slipped her other arm around Sam's waist. "Jack and Daniel have been wonderful as well. And Teal'c's aid has been rather... remarkable."

Sam was laughing. "Teal'c's version of the 'birds and the bees' had to be heard to be believed. It took Daniel two hours to clear up the... interesting confusions."

"So, where *are* all those lovely men?"

Sam shook her head. "I'm not sure. The General gave Teal'c a ride back to... his home. I think the colonel was going to toss all those towels into the wash."

Janet snickered. "And wherever the colonel is, we're likely to find Daniel."

Sam freed herself from Janet's hold and moved to the other end of the kitchen, reaching for the handle to the laundry room door. Abruptly, she stopped and leaned the side of her head against the door. She could feel the mischievous smile spread slowly over her face. Still pressed against the door, she beckoned, moving aside to give them room in the small space. "I may just get out from under that obligation to the colonel sooner than I expected," she whispered, holding her finger up in the traditional demand for silence.

Cyn exchanged a puzzled glance with Janet, then joined Sam, leaning close to the wooden surface of the door.

/"Jaaaack... Behave!"/

/"I'm behaving. My own house."/

/"Jack! There are still people in the house! *Ian's* here."/

/"He won't care. Wait'll you see what he brought us. C'mere, Danny."/

/"Jack! Uh... j...jack..."/

/"Shhh. Relax, love. God, I love watching you play that guitar. You and your boys."/

/"W...was a wonderful party."/

/"Oh, yeah. Great birthday."/

/"Mmm. H...happy Birthday."/

/"Right."/ A naughty chuckle. /"Happy Birthday, Carter. Nice late birthday present. For me."/

A soft sigh, a breathy laugh, a moan. Then silence.

"Whatcha doin', loves?"

Three guilty parties jumped violently, then spun around flashing identical hushing fingers.

Ian's sandy eyebrow arched. "Oh, now, what are you naughty lasses up to?"

Despite their impeding hands, he managed to slither in next to the door. He listened for a moment, a delighted smirk spreading over his face. His finger came up to mimic their hushing motions, then stretched out to flick off the kitchen light. Mischievous eyes holding theirs, he reached for the doorknob.

The three women grimaced and mimed frantic negatives, but he just grinned wickedly and slowly, silently turned the knob.

Sam exchanged quick glances with the other two women, then grinned with them and crept closer to the now-open door. Ian made room for them to peek into the dim laundry room.

They were greeted with the sight of Jack O'Neill's well-formed backside, clearly on display as his front side leaned toward the dryer.

The dryer on which Doctor Daniel Jackson was presently sitting, arms and legs wrapped around Jack's neck and waist, respectively, face and presumably lips fully occupied.

Sam felt an irresistible giggle forcing its way up her throat. She could feel the three close-pressed bodies shaking with the same affliction.

The two men were oblivious, until Daniel tilted his head and cracked his eyes open. Long lashes lifted slightly to expose a slit of vivid blue. The eyes hazily noted the audience, then heavy lids drifted closed again, only to immediately spring open to their widest extent.

He started wriggling, trying to push the colonel's body away. "Jack! Ah... uh... *Jack!*"

"Easy, Daniel. Calm yourself."

"Jack! Um... Ian!" Even in the dim light, the flaming red of Daniel's face was obvious.

"Let him get his own archaeologist."

Ian's laughter erupted. "Had one, but some military grunt up and kyped him!"

O'Neill's upper body twisted around. "What the..."

"Oh, God," Daniel moaned, lowering his rosy face onto Jack's shoulder.

"You *had* one? Had one as in... *how*?"

Ian smirked at him, apparently unfazed by the sharp glare piercing his defenseless body.

"N... not like that, Jack." Daniel straightened, lifting his head off Jack's shoulder and revealing a face suffused with laughter. "Behave, you lousy Brit. And Jack, you of all people should know better."

"Yeah, well..." O'Neill snarled at the four gapers. "Go away, gossip, plan all the ways you're going to make us pay. Just... go away."

Sam choked down her laughter. "Yes, Sir. Didn't see a thing. Amazing how advancing age interferes with the vision, isn't it."

"Not to mention memory," Janet added brightly.

He favored them with an acknowledging nod. Nothing to tell, no reason to ask. Sam had known, anyway, and Janet probably understood what was going on between them before they did. "Happy birthday, Carter. Now shut that damned door and go... water the plants."

She grinned and pulled the door out of Ian's hold, pushing it softly closed. Then she leaned against the barrier and called, "Thanks for the great party, Sir." She waited a beat, then, "And thanks for the last minute present."

Laughter from outside the door, outraged shouts from inside.

It had, indeed, been one hell of a party.

Ende

* * *

Appendix

For those who are interested, here are the full lyrics to the songs I chose, as well as the identities of the artists whose talents and skills I gave to my characters :^)

**The Voices: I'm a fan of two kinds of music: classical and contemporary folk :^) And for my fantasy SG universe, I've awarded the skills and talents of some of my favorite musicians to the members of the SGC family. Here are the sources:

As in Private Artist, the inspiration for Ian's marvelous fiddling ability comes from the incredible Donal Leahy. Leahy's web site is at <http://www.leahymusic.com/> The first piece that Ian, Jason and Daniel play is the "B-minor medley," a sample of which can be heard from the web site. Ian's "runner" piece is "McBrides," which can also be heard on this site.

Again as in Private Artist, the primary inspiration for Daniel's wonderful talent comes from Chicago folk singer Lee Murdock, with a touch of Shinobu Sato added. Lee has amazed me from the first moment I met him. He was my guitar teacher for a couple of years, and passed along a number of words of wisdom-including the suggestion that I practice in the dark so I wouldn't have to look at my hands as I played LOL! Daniel's inherited that skill along with the great guitar playing ;^) Lee's home page is at <http://www.artistsofnote.com/lee/>, though it sadly contains no sound bites.

For Jack, I used another Chicago musician, Jim Craig. Jim is much more obscure than Lee is. He's made only one tape that I know of, which is a great shame. Jim is a tall, kind of gangly man, with a gray-shot black beard. He plays wonderful ragtime, and sings with this warm, friendly baritone voice. As far as I can find, Jim Craig has no web page :^(

Janet gets her voice from yet another Chicago local, Jacquie Manning. Jacquie is half of a great duo who call themselves Small Potatoes. Her partner, Rich Prezioso, is the inspiration for Siler's guitar playing. He's a terrifically talented flat-pick guitarist who started out playing cowboy music LOL! Small Potatoes put on a terrifically diverse act. They seem to be able to handle almost any genre of music that can be done with two guitars and two flexible voices. Small Potatoes's web site is at <http://www.smallpotatoesmusic.com/> You can hear samples of some of their numbers here, though all of the music I used came from their first recording, called "Raw," which was released only on tape. They've promised that they will soon re-release it on CD :^) In the meantime, for the fun of it, I really recommend "Waltz of the Wallflowers."

Sam's song is another of Jacquie Manning's. In this case it was the amazing nature of the song that prompted me to give it to her. The song is beautiful, but owes a great deal to the style and character of the performance, which means that a lot of vocal weaknesses can be disguised or utilized.

The source for Joan Tailor is a bit more fuzzy. She's patterned after a fiddler I saw at a number of folk festivals several years ago. This young woman was delightful. She played with several other local musicians, usually bluegrass style. The thing I remember most vividly was a piece she'd used for fiddling competitions based on the theme to the old Heckle and Jeckle cartoons. At one point in this piece, she actually made that fiddle sound like cawing crows LOL! Never failed to delight me.

Margo Dean is drawn from imagination, but the song she gives to Daniel is real. I sincerely hope that Doug Miller will excuse me attributing his wonderful song, "Fertile Ground," to this imaginary character.

The rest-Streager and his mandolin, the drums, etc.-are simply drawn from amalgams of the many wonderful musicians I've delighted in over the years.

**The Songs: This is going to take a bit of space LOL! I think I exorcised my urges toward song-fic for the next several years in this one story. Okay, here we go.

St. Louis Blues: There are a number of versions of the lyrics to this song out there. The version that Jacquie Manning recorded is actually quite different from this, but these are the "official" lyrics I was able to find.

Saint Louis Blues  
W.C. Handy

I hate's to see dat ev'nin' sun go down  
Hate's to see dat ev'nin' sun go down  
Cause ma baby, she done lef' dis town.  
If I feel tomorrow lak ah feel today  
Feel tomorrow lak ah feel today,  
I'll pack up my trunk, and make ma git away.

Saint Louis woman wid her diamon' rings  
Pulls dat man 'roun' by her apron strings.  
'Twern't for powder an' her store-bought hair  
De man she love wouldn't gone nowhere, nowhere.

Got dem Saint Louis Blues I'm as blue as ah can be.  
Like a man done throwed that rock down into de sea  
Got dem Saint Louis Blues I'm as blue as ah can be.

Went to de gypsy get her fortune tole  
To de gypsy, done got her fortune tole,  
Cause she most wile 'bout her Jelly Roll.  
Now dat gypsy tole her, "Don't you wear no black."  
She done tole her, "Don't you wear no black.  
Go to Saint Louis, you can win him back."

If she git to Cairo, make Saint Louis by herself,  
Git to Cairo, find her old friend Jeff,  
gwine to pin herself, right there, to his side If she flag his train, she   
sho' can ride.

Got dem Saint Louis Blues jes as blue as ah can be.  
Dat man got a heart lak a rock cast into de sea.  
Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me.  
Doggone it!  
I loves day man lak a schoolboy loves his pie,  
Lak a Kentucky Col'nel ....loves his mint an' rye.  
I'll love ma baby till the day ah die.

Now a black-headed gal makes a freight train jump the track,  
Said a black-headed gal makes a freight train jump the track,  
But a long tall gal makes a preacher ball the jack.

Lawd, a blonde-headed woman make a good man leave the town,  
I said a blonde-headed woman make a good man leave the town,  
But a red-headed woman make a boy slap his pappy down.

* * *

Cowboy's Sweetheart: This song has been recorded by many country artists. And by Jacquie Manning LOL! I told you she was versatile ;^) The "chorus" to this song has no lyrics... it's all yodeled.

I Want to be a Cowboy's Sweetheart  
by Patsy Montana

I want to be a cowboy's sweetheart.  
I want to learn to rope and ride.  
I want to ride o'er the plains and deserts  
Out west of the Great Divide.  
I want to hear the coyotes howling  
While the sun sets in the west.  
I want to be a cowboy's sweetheart--  
The life I love the best.

I want to ride old Paint, goin' on a run;  
I want to feel the wind in my face.  
A thousand miles from all the city lights  
Go at a cowhand's pace.  
I want to pillow my head near the sleeping herd,  
While the moon shines down from above.  
I want to strum my guitar, yodel-lay-ee-oo  
That's the life I love.

* * *

Here Comes the Man With the Mandolin: I decided I wanted to tweak Jack's nose a bit, so I chose this song, with its very un-Jack-like chorus lyric, as his introductory piece. Poor Jack LOL!

Here Comes the Man with the Mandolin  
Weldon/Cavanaugh/Burke

Biddely um bum bum, biddely um bum bum,  
Here come the man with the mandolin.  
Biddely um bum bum, biddely um bum bum,  
He'll cheer you up like your ship's come in.  
Lovable old fellow, play an old tune,  
Come around every afternoon.  
Raggedy old minstrel, wearin' a big grin.  
Here comes the man with the mandolin.

All the kids follow, and they holler  
Up to the windows above.  
"Mama drop a nickel, and the man'll pick  
A little tune we love."

Biddely um bum bum, biddely um bum bum,  
Open your heart, let the music in.  
Biddely um bum bum, biddely um bum bum,  
Here comes the man with the mandolin.

* * *

Last Winter Was a Hard One: This depression era song delights me. Considering the rather sad, painful nature of its subject matter, it's amazingly bright and lively. This is a song I know through Lee Murdock, whose guitar break after he second verse has to be heard--and seen--to be believed. "Cut a shy," by the way, means to recut an old garment and make a new one out of it.

Last Winter Was a Hard One  
Traditional

Last winter was a hard one, Mrs. Riley did you hear?  
It's well yourself that knows it, and it is for many a day.  
Your husband wasn't the only one to sit beside the wall;  
My old man MacGuinness couldn't get a job at all.

[Chorus]  
So rise up Mrs. Riley, don't give away to blues.  
You and I will cut a shy new bonnets and new shoes.  
Hear the young ones cry, neither sigh nor sob,  
And wait 'til times get better, and MacGuinness gets a job.

Bad luck to those Italians, I wish they'd stayed at home.  
We've plenty of our own kind to eat up what we own.  
They come like bees in the summertime, swarming here to stay,  
And contractors will hire them for forty cents a day.

They work upon the railroad, they shovel snow and slush.  
Burt one thing in their favor-those Italians don't get lushed.  
They bring their money home at night and drink no dinner wine,  
And that's something I would like to say for your old man and mine!

* * *

Trombone Charlie (pronounced "Trambone"): My very favorite of Jim Craig's recorded songs :^)

Trombone Charlie  
G. Brooks

I know a fool who blows a horn,  
He come from way down south.  
You never heard such blowin' since you been born  
Like when that trombone's in his mouth.  
Oh, he wails and moans, He grunts and groans...  
He moans just like a cow.  
Nobody else can do his stuff,  
Even if he shows 'em how.

Oh, Charlie, play that thing. I mean that slide trombone.  
Make it talk, make it sing... Charlie, where did you get that tone?  
If Gabriel heard you, how you blow? He'd let you lead his band, I know.  
Oh, Charlie, play that thing. I mean that slide trombone.

Mm, Charlie, do you know, you blow one sweet horn?  
I get to movin' to and fro when you carry on.  
Never seen such shakin' hips like when that horn is to your lips.  
Oh, Charlie, play that thing. I mean that slide trombone.

Oh, Charlie, make it sing. I mean that slide trombone.  
You could even make a king get down off his throne.  
He would break a leg, I know, doin' the Charleston while you blow.  
Oh, Charlie, play that thing. I mean that slide trombone.

* * *

Vampire: Imagine spooky, liquid music from a rather muted electric guitar, swirling darkness, an intermittently visible moon... You know the drill LOL! A truly extraordinary song. Like Jack, I'd never understood the fascination of the vampire myth, until I heard Jacquie Manning sing this song.

Vampire  
Michael P. Smith

In the dark of moon, there is no light...  
I'm free.  
I have no love to blind my eyes for me.  
Dark of moon's the time for flying;  
Far below the world is lying  
Unaware...  
And my soul is crying...  
Vampire.  
This is my song.

Oh I love you all, you're beautiful to me.  
Though there's not a one among you who can see me.  
Who among you understands it?  
Bloody mouths and bloody hands are all you know...  
But soon you'll know  
The vampire.  
And it won't be long.  
Flying... flying.

Oh, your life's too short-your love is gone too soon.  
Come with me, we'll fly the dark of moon, the dark of moon.  
Life's not life if you must lose it;  
Death's not death if you refuse it.  
So who could blame you, if you chose  
The vampire.  
Forever young... forever young.  
...Forever young.

* * *

I Like You: Another song I know from Small Potatoes. This is a   
delightful, goofy, bouncy little song.

I Like You  
Sol Hoopy

I like you 'cause you have such lovin' ways, hey, hey;  
I like you, 'cause you are so sweet, so neat, so cute, 'n everything...

Oh, baby, I know why...  
Start lovin', and you smile...  
Start hummin'...  
Ah! Whoo! Those are big-a-blue *eyes*!

Hypnotised... every time I look at you, hey, hey.  
They just seem to thrill me through and through, (you bet they do)

Well, I must admit that it is true,  
I throw a fit when I see you,  
Baby, I love you 'cause you have such lovin' ways!

* * *

Fertile Ground: This is just a lovely song, up-beat, gentle, beautiful. I strongly recommend Lee Murdock's version on his Fertile Ground CD.

Fertile Ground  
c. 1989 Doug Miller, BMI

Grandma's out in the garden,  
Soon as the hoe can break the sod;  
Out in the sun with a trust in God.  
In the circle of the seed,  
It's planting time, and time to weed.

And she'd say, just work the topsoil;  
Don't dig too far down.  
Leave a little bit to faith  
And Work the fertile ground.

Now the sun shines down and the soil rolls back.  
A new shoot rises through the crack.  
Now, who could have thought it up like that.  
There's a hand in every birth,  
That knows just what the seed is worth.

And she'd say, just work the topsoil;  
Don't dig too far down.  
Leave a little bit to faith  
And Work the fertile ground.

So stop your turning round and round,  
Don't sit and think your world apart.  
Some things you just see with your heart.  
Take a seed you want to grow,  
And put your hand upon the hoe.

And you just work the topsoil;  
Don't dig too far down.  
Leave a little bit to faith  
And Work the fertile ground.

* * *

Safe in the Harbor: This is a wonderful song about exploration and human nature. It's been recorded by quite a few people, including Eric Bogle himself, and Lee Murdock. Lee's version is my favorite (surprise!).

Safe in the Harbor  
Eric Bogle

Have you stood by the ocean on a diamond-hard morning  
And felt the horizon stir deep in your soul?  
Watched the wake of a steamer as it cuts through blue water  
Being gripped by a fever you just can't control?  
Oh to throw off the shackles, and fly with the seagulls,  
To where green waves go tumbling before driving sea winds;  
Or to lie on the decking on a warm summer evening--  
Watch the red sun fall burning beneath the earth's rim.

[Chorus] But to every sailor comes time to drop anchor,  
Haul in the sail, and make the lines fast.  
You deep water dreamer, your journey is over.  
You're safe in the harbor at last.  
You're safe in the harbor at last.

Now some men are sailors, but most are just dreamers  
Held fast to the anchors they forge in their minds,  
Who in their hearts know they'll never sail over deep water  
To search for a treasure they're afraid they won't find.  
So in sheltered harbors they cling to their anchors,  
Bank down their boilers and shut down the steam.  
And wait for the sailors to return with the treasures  
That fan the dull embers and fire up their dreams.

And some men are schemers, who laugh at the dreamers,  
Take the gold from the sailors and turn it to dross.  
They're men in a prison, women without vision  
Whose only horizon is profit and loss.  
So when storm clouds come sailing across your blue ocean,  
Hold fast to your dreaming for all that you're worth.  
For as long as there's dreamers, there will always be sailors  
Bringing back their bright treasures from the corners of earth.

* * *

So there you have it :^) I've got lots more LOL!


End file.
